The Puppetmaster
by Curzon17
Summary: Deeks resigns from the LAPD under mysterious circumstances, much to the shock and hurt of the NCIS team. Only Kensi believes that something bigger might be at play. Is she right? And if so, can she and the team track Deeks down in time? Post 3x21-spoilers
1. Prologue

**A/N- **This is my first attempt at fan fiction, and i haven't written anything in several years. But i am a HUGE fan of the show and a lot of the stories i read here by a lot of talented writers. Anyway, i had this story bouncing around in my head for a while now, and as many will know, the only sure way to get it out of your head is to write it down. So i busted out my laptop out of mothballs and I did so. The story is complete, i'll update it every 2-3 days. Nice Deeks whump, it made me cry writing it, hopefully it will make you too. ;)

* * *

Lt. Bates sits at his desk, pouring over roster changes and officer evaluations, when one of the last cops he would have expected to see, strolls calmly through his door.

"Deeks" he says, eyeing the other man up and down. "Been a while."

Detective Marty Deeks, LAPD liaison officer for the NCIS Los Angeles branch, sidles over to one of the vacant chairs across from Bates, and sits down. _Typical Deeks_, thinks Bates, _several days worth of shag on his face, and a long mop of golden hair that looks like the wind combed it on his way in._ He was also wearing typical Deeks garb, a green and white plaid shirt, leather jacket and torn, faded jeans.

"Hey Bates," replies Deeks, "how's things?"

Bates declines to answer, choosing instead to eye the younger man a bit more. Years of experience conducting interrogations during his stint in the military, taught him a thing or two about reading people, and something was definitely not right with the Detective sitting before him. Nevertheless, Bates opts to avoid cutting to the chase, choosing instead to allow Deeks to get to the reason for his visit in his own time.

Dropping his pen, he raises his arms, cupping the back of his head with interlaced fingers, while leaning a bit back in his chair. "Same old shit," he says, "you know how it goes."

Deeks smiles at this, giving a brief nod of his head, his eyes then falling to the floor.

"So what's going on Deeks? Slummin' it? I didn't think you would get tired of life in the big leagues so soon." Bates smiles at that statement, not just because he can never resist a dig at Deeks, who has been a thorn in his side more times than he cares to count. But also because he realizes that he decided to cut to the chase after all. Maybe it was for the best, since Deeks has the ability to dither with the best of them.

Deeks raises his eyes to once again meet the Lieutenant's own. And the look of complete seriousness Bates sees in his Detective sends an alarm blaring through his mind.

"Deeks?" he says, unsure of how to continue.

A half smirk appears on Deeks face, but doesn't touch his eyes. It isn't even in the same zip code as his eyes, thinks Bates.

"Hit the nail on the head Lieutenant," he replies. "I'm here to tender my resignation with the LAPD."

Bates eyes widen at Deeks declaration, and his eyes follow the man as he watches him stand up, reach into his leather jacket and fish out a series of pages, stapled together and folded into a square to fit neatly into his lining pocket. Deeks then tosses the folded papers onto Bates desk, and draws his badge, gun and identification, putting them onto the desk as well.

Bates eyes Deeks for several more seconds. There is a fierce intensity and determination in the man's eyes that tells him this is no joke. But there is something more there as well, hidden deep within the ocean blue depths of his eyes that seems to almost have the feel of desperation, or need. It's a look so faint that Bates doubts that anyone without his skills of reading people would pick up on it. Nevertheless, it's there, he's sure of it.

Breaking eye contact, Bates picks up the folded documents on his desk, and begins to unfold and look through them. His eyebrow raises in interest as he immediately notices the professional detail in the filling out of the forms. Looking once again at Deeks he asks "What's going on here Deeks? It's clear to me that you didn't fill these out yourself. Is that little ninja lady trying to poach you from me once and for all?" Inwardly, if Bates had a choice, he'd like to keep Deeks as one of his Detectives. The man was an asset he didn't want to lose, having undercover skills on par with the best in the LAPD. But given the other choice, he would rather see Deeks leave the LAPD in order to officially join NCIS, than see him throw it all away, for some other reason altogether.

Not even cracking a smile, Deeks just slowly shakes his head. "No, nothin' like that," he says, "my reasons for leaving are my own business."

Putting the forms back onto his desk, Bates shakes his head. "I can't just let you leave Deeks, tell me what's going on. You're a good cop, I'll help you out if I can. Are you having problems at NCIS? I can re-assign you back with the LAPD if that's the case, you don't need to-."

Deeks is already shaking his head even more fervently as Bates continues on. "Bates…no, it is what it is, just let me do this. Please."

That previously spied subtle look of desperation found in Deeks eyes, has definitely grown stronger now, and the look has put Bates on edge. It's apparent Deeks has something seriously bothering him, but its equally apparent that the man doesn't wish to share. He stares for a long minute into the younger man's eyes, trying to discern everything that he sees there. Finally he gives out a long sigh, running the fingers of his right hand through his hair and rising to his feet. "I can't stop you from resigning Marty. It's your life, it's your choice. But if there's something going on with you, know that I'm here to help, if you need it."

It's obvious in Deeks eyes that Bates' use of his first name – something he has never done – does not go unnoticed, and it serves to hit home the sincerity of the offer, as Bates hoped it would. Deeks eyes shift to the window then, and go out of focus as he seems to consider the offer laid before him. But just as quickly, the steely determination returns as he once more meets the Lieutenant's gaze, and Bates knows that he's failed to reach the man.

"Thanks Lieutenant, thanks for everything," Deeks says, and with that, he turns around and walks out the door.


	2. Chapter 1

_90 Minutes Earlier_

Deeks opens the door to his bathroom and walks out freshly showered and fully dressed. Faint wisps of steam from his shower, swirls around him, quickly vanishing into the cooler atmosphere of the rest of his apartment. Making his way to the kitchen, he thinks back fondly to the awesome swells on the Santa Monica beach this morning, during his usual early morning surf. Truly there is nothing more invigorating and mentally relaxing than a nice one on one between a surfer and his wave. Once again, the thought enters his mind of somehow finding a way to get Kensi to give surfing a try, but as yet, he has been unsuccessful in getting her to even consider it. Thoughts of his partner then occupy his mind for the next several minutes, as he pours himself a cup of coffee for the road, and fixes himself a quick ham sandwich.

He still can't believe how much she has changed in recent weeks, ever since she finally not only solved the mystery of her father's fifteen year old murder, but also saw the man responsible, Peter Clairmont, brought to justice. Well, if you consider getting shot to death by Granger as justice…. but in Deeks mind Clairmont got off easy. Deeks also supposes Kensi being reunited with her mom had a part to play in the change as well. But she has been pretty tight lipped since then about how things are progressing on that front, and Deeks, though curious, is willing to bide his time until he feels it's the right time to ask about it. Nevertheless, the changes he has seen in her have been startling to behold. Prior to those events, Deeks would have described his 'relationship' with his partner as being about equal parts harmonious and antagonistic. Surely at least half the time, his incessant wit and flirting and playful banter was met with baleful glares, rolled eyes, and sharp punches to various parts of his anatomy on the part of his often-entirely-too-serious-partner. But lately, she has really seemed to lighten up -laughing at nearly all his jokes, smiling more, and hell, she was even downright flirting with him last week, during that whole small pox scare. He still recalls fondly the two of them walking up to that dead woman's house – _what was her name?_- and flirting back and forth in a way he'd never really done with her before. _Sleeps naked does she?_ Someday, he would really like to find out if there was any truth to that. And who knows, the way things have been progressing of late, that might not actually be an impossibility. Smiling to himself, Deeks seals the lid on his coffee mug, grabs his bag and heads for the door.

Exiting the kitchen, Deeks immediately notices Monty sitting quietly, staring at the front door, instead of in his usual spot, in his doggy bed beside the couch. Upon hearing his master enter the room, Monty turns his head, his eyes meeting those of Deeks, with what seems to be a look of interest, if not concern.

"Hey boy, what are you doin' by the door? Are you trying to stop me from leaving? Hey? " Deeks asks as he approaches. Closing to within a few feet, Monty's tail bangs a few times on the floor in a slow diagonal wag, and Deeks gives him a scratch between the ears before reaching up for the door handle. Upon opening the door, Monty turns and retreats further into the living room, once more taking up his favorite spot. And Deeks, watching him go, turns to look outside.

Looking around, Deeks eventually notices that sitting on his doorstep is a rather thick, medium sized brown envelope, with the name 'Martin Deeks' printed in black felt marker on the surface. Deeks raises an eyebrow and immediately resumes scanning the neighborhood outside his front door. He's not sure exactly what he's looking for, anyone suspicious he guesses, but other than a guy walking his dog down the street, and a couple of kids playing across the way, there is no one else in sight. Crossing the threshold, Deeks steps outside of his 3rd floor apartment and surveys the neighboring apartments to either side of his own. All of them are closed, and he spots no one lurking in any windows or doorways. Turning back, he stares once more at the envelope on the ground, filling him with an inexplicably ominous vibe.

Stepping up to it, he stands there, staring down. Curiosity wants him to pick the envelope up, give it a thorough examination, and then see what's inside. But some as yet unidentifiable part of him dreads even touching the thing. Surely it's contents can't be good. _I mean, when is that ever good? _he thinks, _When some mystery man drops an equally mysterious envelope on your step, when does that ever bode well? _Sighing in frustration, Deeks kicks the envelope into the apartment, follows it in, and closes the door.

Sitting at his desk a short time later, cursory inspection of the envelope reveals no traps – no poison needles, or white powder or the like. _Geez, time spent with NCIS makes a guy almost too cautious._ Still, his gut tells him it's bad news, so he leaves no stone unturned in his examination before actually opening it up. Glancing up at the clock tells him he only has a few minutes left before he's probably going to be late for work. Well, late-_ER_ anyway. No one really expects Deeks to show up on time, but he usually wanders in before too much time has passed after the hour. Fearing to waste any more time, he returns his gaze to the envelope, tears the side open with a quick tug, and dumps the contents out onto his desk.

Several items fall from the envelope to clatter upon the desk surface. And an odd assortment of objects it is. Surveying the items, Deeks sees a cellular flip phone, a set of what looks to be car keys, the backside of a photograph, a lapel pin, a transmitter and, most surprisingly of all, an item immediately recognizable in his line of work – an earwig comm device, much like the ones they use frequently at NCIS, only this one, instead of flesh colored, is solid black. Deeks stares at the earwig for several long moments, not even tempted in the least to shove it in his ear, turn it on and hear who's on the other side. Instead he shifts his gaze back to the photograph, the one item he has yet to completely identify, and he picks it up, and turns it over. What he sees causes his eyes to widen in shock, and his breath to catch in his throat.

The photo is of a young woman, a woman Deeks knows all too well, although he knows he's never truly had a so much as a conversation with her before. Gently he traces his fingertips briefly along the features of her face – the long golden hair, and the deep ocean blue eyes, so much like his own, yet wide, wide with sheer terror.

The girl in the picture is dressed in tattered clothes, sitting on the floor, hand-cuffed to a pipe protruding from the wall behind her. The wall itself is brick and mortar, dark and dingy, brightened no doubt from the brilliant flash of camera. Noting what little detail is to be seen, Deeks is drawn back again to the eyes, so wide, so frightened. _HER eyes. "Rebecca…"_

At that single utterance, Deeks drops the photo back onto the desk, and backs away several paces. Turning in a slow circle, pulling his fingers through his hair, his eyes wander around the all-too-familiar surroundings of his living room, seeing nothing, as a series of thoughts and questions invade his mind seemingly all at once. _Rebecca. _His little sister. His only family left in this world that he has spent every second since their separation -when he was eleven, and she, only two years old- safeguarding, and watching over from a distance. Watching as she grew up with a new family, in a new and loving home, a home that he -a troubled eleven year old who shot his father- could never have._ How could anyone find her? And who? Who would do such a thing? And why?_ These questions and more steamroll through Deeks' mind, and instinctively his eyes re-focus as he seeks out the only other living creature in the room, his best friend Monty.

The dog is still laying in his doggy bed, head down between his fore-paws, staring at his master with eyes full of deep concern and worry. Surely he cannot understand what has his master so upset, but he sees the alarm, and the stress, and like all dogs, he empathizes. Locking eyes with his dog…his friend, Deeks feels his mind begin to sort itself out, filing away numerous questions he has no answers to, questions to be addressed at a later date. The only question he is capable of getting answered right now is 'Who?', and glancing back at the desk, to the cell phone sitting on top of his papers, he's certain there is where he will find the answer.

Deeks returns to the desk and picks up the cell phone. Flipping it open, he sees its on, with the battery indicator showing a full charge, and a phone number already dialed in, waiting for someone to hit SEND. Taking a deep breath, he presses the button, and brings the phone to his ear.

Deeks listens quietly, unaware that he has begun holding his breath, as he starts to hear the number dialed start to ring. Once, twice, three times it rings with no answer and Deeks just begins to falter, mind suddenly clouded with uncertainty when he hears the tell-tale click of someone picking up on the other end.

"Detective Martin Deeks," the deep gruff voice says after several seconds, "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever get around to making this call."

Deeks swallows, clenching his free hand into a bloodless white fist hanging at his side as he tries to steady his frazzled nerves. "You have me at a disadvantage," he replies, "you know who I am, but who are you?"

The voice on the phone chuckles at this for a moment, before speaking once again, "You know, I put a lot of time, and a lot of effort into the planning of this day. And most of the decisions I made as I went about the planning came pretty easily to me. But when I thought about whether or not I should reveal to you my identity… well that was a much tougher choice. You see, telling you would make everything you're about to go through today so much more poignant, more meaningful. And yet, revealing myself to you also carries with it the risk of detrimental consequences to myself, should my plans somehow go awry. But I'm a very good planner Martin, and I don't think that's going to happen. So I see no reason not to tell you who I am. You might…"

Deeks listens silently for a time, but the low, gruff monotone of the mysterious man's voice, coupled with his own rampant agitation and concern for his sister's well-being, causes him to snap. "You know? Why don't you just skip the monologue, I don't even care anymore. Just tell me who's the girl in the picture? Have you hurt her? And what the hell is it you want from me?"

The voice is quiet for a series of seconds before responding, and for Deeks, knowing full well he should have kept his mouth shut, it seems like the longest several seconds of his life. Eventually though, the voice comes back, as low and monotone as before, but with perhaps a hint of annoyance as well.

"If you interrupt me again Martin, I will hurt her. And I will make you listen. Nice try by the way, feigning ignorance as to the girl's identity. But you and I both know who she is. Rebecca Atwood, college senior at USC, and most importantly, your darling little sister."

"How did you…", the words leave Deeks mouth before he has a chance to reign them in.

"How did I… find her?" the voice asks. " As I said earlier Martin, I spent a lot of time planning for this day. And much of that time was spent just following you around. Imagine my surprise one day when after what was already several weeks of watching you -logging your activities and habits- you led me to the campus of the USC. I was quite curious as to what you were actually doing there and I must admit, it came as a bit of a shock when I eventually figured out you were there to watch _her_… from afar. It's kind of funny when you think about it. I mean, there was I, watching you, watching her."

Deeks shuts his eyes and runs his hand once again through his mop of golden hair. Inwardly he curses himself for being so stupid, so careless as to have unknowingly led this man straight to the only family he has left. If something happens to her.. if something has ALREADY happened to her…well, that thought is too terrifying to even contemplate.

"Needless to say," the voice continues, "after seeing you're interest in her, I simply had to find out who she was. And you know, it really wasn't so hard –an official channel here, a back alley bribe there- and before you knew it, I knew everything there was to know about the beautiful young Rebecca Atwood. I was surprised, Martin, to learn that she was adopted by the Atwood family at the tender age of two years old. But I was even more surprised…..oh, much more surprised when I learned that prior to that adoption, she had been known as Melody Brandel, youngest member of the entirely dysfunctional Brandel clan."

The voice is quiet again, seemingly waiting for Deeks to perhaps respond. But Deeks has nothing to say. Shock and horror are overwhelming emotions running through his brain, and he just can't quite process the surreal experience. _Ten minutes ago, _he thinks, _ten minutes ago I had not a care in the world. I was heading out for work, looking forward to another day of playful banter and only slightly less than harmless flirting with Kensi… and now my world is turned upside down._

Seemingly growing tired…or perhaps bored of Deeks' lack of response, the voice sighs, and decides to continue. "Well, having already previously discovered your own name change at the age of twenty-one, from Martin Brandel to Martin Deeks –though why you chose the last name 'Deeks' I'll never understand- it wasn't hard to put two and two together. I am curious though Martin. I've spent a couple of days now with Rebecca, and she has absolutely no idea who you are. Not only has she never heard of the name Martin Deeks, but she is completely unfamiliar with the Brandel surname as well. Oh, she knows she was adopted, but the name Brandel means absolutely nothing to her. Why have you never told her who you are? Why keep her in the dark? I mean, she is your sister after all."

_Why indeed, _Deeks thinks. Should he tell him how there were so many times when he wanted to tell her who he was, and to hold her in his arms, and to talk to her? Should he tell how the thing that stopped him, stopped him every time, was the fact that she was happy, and healthy, in a stable loving family, and the last thing in the world he wanted to do was expose her to the fucked up horror that was the Brandel family. She didn't need that kind of grief in her life, and as for her not knowing about him, well, she couldn't miss someone she didn't know existed. Could she? All these thoughts rattle around in Deeks' brain, but no… this sick bastard, whoever he is, doesn't deserve to know these things. Things he's never shared with another living soul. Instead he just answers "You want to know why I kept her from knowing about me? That should be obvious. Take a look in the fucking mirror. I brought you to her. I kept myself out of her life to keep her safe….and STILL, I led you straight to her."

The voice chuckles again. "Ha, that you did Martin. That you did. And I must thank you, for she turned out to be the lynch-pin to my plans. Originally, I had planned on using your partner, NCIS Agent Blye, as the string to which I would make you dance like a puppet. I've watched you two together, quite extensively in fact, and if you're not sleeping together yet, I imagine it would have happened before too much longer. You care about each other, that's obvious. But being a federal agent, there was too much risk involved in my taking her. Not only in the fact that she is a highly trained agent, but also I ran the risk of alerting the rest of your team and getting them involved. We can't have that, can we Martin? No…. this game is going to be played just between us. So yes, Rebecca was a much better, much more desirable alternative."

The mere mention by this man of kidnapping Kensi, _his Kensi,_ sets Deeks back on edge. This man, whoever he is, is holding all the cards, and Deeks is getting tired of waiting for the Sword of Damocles, swinging precariously over his head, to finally drop. "Listen," he says with exasperation in his voice, " why don't you just tell me who you are, and what you want? I'll do anything man….anything, but you have to let my sister go."

"John Quaide," the voice says in return.

"What? Quaide?" Deeks' mind reels. He knows that name… he's heard it before. Definitely a collar of his from days gone by, but there's been so many, he can't quite place a face to the name.

"What's the matter Martin? You don't remember me? I'm hurt." The voice –John Quaide- quips.

"Listen man, I'm sorry. If you knew the dozens upon dozens of guys I've arrested over the years…" Deeks begins, trying not to anger the man holding his sister.

"Arrested?" Quaide laughs again at this. "Why, you never arrested me Martin. You really don't remember, do you? Well, let me refresh your memory. I was on trial for kidnapping and assault, and you, you were the fresh faced young attorney from the D.A.'s office that sent me up the river. I was given fifteen years because of you, but I was out in eight…..do you remember yet?"

Deeks did remember. John Quaide… of course. One of the few cases he tried, and successfully at that, before disillusionment with the Justice system caused him to abandon his career and to take up a new one as a member of the LAPD. Thinking back, Deeks recalls now, clearly, the features of the man –having short, black hair, a square jaw, pug nose and dark beady eyes. But he also remembered those eyes exuding a fierce intelligence, and animosity whenever Quaide's gaze landed on Deeks himself. Inwardly he shakes his head at the sick irony. Well over two hundred people he has put away during his career as a cop. So many criminals were taken off the streets because of him that he's lost count. But instead of all of them, one of only 3 people he successfully convicted during his stint with the D.A. has come back to haunt him instead. "Ya, I remember you," he eventually replies.

"Ah, I'm glad," says Quaide. "I'm not going to bother telling you about the hell I went through during my time in prison. You've probably heard it all before. But I will tell you that I spent each and every day of those eight years, dreaming and planning what I would do when I finally got out. And it was amazing really, how that plan evolved. Originally, when I wasn't being sodomized by my cellmate, I would fantasize about just immediately tracking you down upon being released, and then staring in your eyes as I plunged a knife, repeatedly, into your stomach. But eventually, as time went on, that was no longer good enough. You see, as my suffering increased, so too did yours need to increase as well. Finally I settled upon my most excellent plan, and you know what? That plan was so satisfying, so wonderful for me to imagine, that I would even have a smile on my face thinking about it while I was being taken from behind."

"So…" Deeks replies, "I guess this is the part where you tell me what you have in store for me. Right Quaide?"

"Right you are Martin. Right you are. I'm not going to beat around the bush with you about this, you're going to die today. In truth, I thought about saving that as a surprise for the end, but then I thought, why not tell you now, and let it dwell in the back of your head for the remainder of the day hey? Yeah, you're going to die, make no mistake. But before that happens, I am going to take everything else from you first. Except for your dear sister Rebecca here. She's the incentive after all. If you do everything I say, and when I say it, at the end of the day, she goes free –none the worse for wear."

Deeks considers this. Deep down, he already knew the endgame of this man. Quaide's, machinations would result in Deeks' own death. And in truth, he was ok with that, he was ok with damn near anything, so long as the end result was also that of his sister's safe return. But Deeks was also a survivor, and he knew that if there was any way to turn the tables on Quaid and get out of this situation, he would find it. With this in mind he responds merely by saying "so what do you want me to do?"

"Ah," says Quaide, "now we get to the good part. You should see before you a series of items that accompanied that phone in the envelope. That lapel pin, though gaudy looking, has a hidden camera installed in it. You are to affix the hidden camera pin onto your coat, and turn on the transmitter. This will allow me to see and hear you as you go about the….tasks I have in store for you. You will insert the earwig into your ear canal and turn it on, in order to receive your instructions from me. And, you will take the keys, and keep them with you. You will need them later. I really don't care what you do with the photograph. It's served it's purpose after all. Once all that is completed, you will do what I say, when I say it. You will not hesitate, you will not stall, and above all, you will not attempt to contact anyone, to let them know what is going on. Do not test me in this regard Martin, as I have no compunctions about cutting my losses and slitting your sister's throat. "

Mind coming back to his sister, Deeks asks "So is she there? Can I talk to her?"

Deeks can practically hear Quaide's smirk as he replies "Oh! NOW you want to talk to her? You've been shadowing the poor girl for practically her entire life, and now you're inclined to talk? I'm touched Martin, really I am, I'm touched that I was able to be the catalyst that finally brings you two together."

The sarcasm is not lost on Deeks, and he's no fan of the dry humor either. "Just put her on the phone," he snaps.

But Quaide seems already ahead of him on this, as Deeks hears muffled footsteps emanating through the phone, and the sound of a squeaky metal door unlocking and swinging open. Several seconds later, his heart literally hammering in his chest, he hears her voice.

"He…hello?" It's a soft, frightened inquiry, and the sound of it breaks Deeks heart. More than anything at that moment he wishes he could pull himself through the phone, and take his little sister into his arms, and tell her everything was going to be alright. Well, that's not entirely true. Almost equally, he'd like to get his hands on Quaide, and make him pay for what he's done. Neither option being open to him right now though, he instead blinks away the tears forming in his eyes, swallows the heart ache, and tries his best to sound calm and strong for the terrified young woman on the other end of the line. He opens his mouth to speak, but comes up short. _What the hell do I say? She doesn't know me, doesn't know my voice. What can I possibly say that will make anything better?_ Finally, he decides that the truth, or at least some parts of it, will be the most effective.

"Rebecca? Rebecca Atwood?" he asks.

"Y…yes." Her voice is still soft, still frightened, and Deeks can tell by the sound this time around that she has recently been crying. "Who…" she begins to ask, but trails off.

Taking in a sharp intake of breath, Deeks steels himself and plunges on. "Rebecca, my name is Marty Deeks, I'm a Detective with the LAPD. Now I know you're confused and you're scared, but I need you to be strong for me now. Ok? And more importantly, I need you to hear me, and believe me when I tell you that I going to see you returned home…soon….and safe and sound."

There is silence on the other end of the phone, and Deeks unconsciously holds his breath once more as he anxiously waits for a reply. But the voice he hears in response is not the one he wishes for.

"Aw…that is so touching Martin. But I did not put her on the phone so you could toss a handful of tired platitudes her way. You needed proof of life…and I gave it to you. Now whether she stays alive is up to you."

At the end of that statement, Deeks can here a renewed crying and sorrow in the background on the other end of the line. The sound of his sister's tortured anguish wrenches his heart anew and he struggles to maintain his composure. It would be too easy to give in to despair or rage at his impotence, and that wouldn't help anybody now. And Quaide has covered all his bases, and will have Deeks completely monitored. There's only one way, one chance for this to end in a positive outcome. And for that, he needs to follow the path as its laid out for him, without deviation or hesitation. But he just prays he has the strength to do so.

After a long moment, he replies in a quiet, tired voice "I'll do as you say."

"Good. Then let's begin. You're first stop will be LAPD headquarters." Deeks can almost hear the smirk on the other man's face.


	3. Chapter 2

_The Present_

Deeks strolls uncertainly through the lobby of LAPD Headquarters. He makes his way to the exit, hands in pockets, with his entire demeanor that of one wanting to be left alone. He's never had a lot of friends within the LAPD, but the last thing he needs now is for some old colleague to stop him and try to chat him up.

Deeks was surprised at first when he was told by Quaide that his first task to be carried out was for him to resign from the LAPD –and NCIS by proxy. Initially, he wasn't sure about the other man's motives behind this particular task, but Deeks suspected it was because Quaide knew how much his job really meant to him. If the man had followed him around for as long as he said, and knew so much about other aspects of Deeks life, it wasn't that great a leap to come to that conclusion. Thinking back, Deeks remembers the day at OPS when Hetty had called him into the burn room, and presented him with the documents that both ended his life as a cop, and started a new one as an agent, all with a handful of signatures. At the time, Deeks had no intention of ever quitting the force, but he didn't want to tell Hetty that. But he conceded that things and people do change, and it was possible one day he would. He had to admit though, never in a million years would he have thought that he would be handing in those resignation forms under duress. But it seemed to have gone off without a hitch. Deeks was worried that he might give something away in what he said or did, for he was well aware that Bates was a master at reading people. So he kept the encounter short and his comments terse, to minimize the chances of that happening.

Walking now out the door, he still can't quite believe that he is officially no longer a cop. He expected it to bother him, or perhaps for him to feel empty inside. But for now, all his feelings and concern are still wrapped up in his sister's well-being. And she is all that matters. Stopping a few paces outside the door, he closes his eyes, lifts his head to the sun and takes a deep, calming breath. And it is then that his thoughts are brought back to his surroundings as he hears and feels an insistent buzzing coming from an inside pocket of his jacket.

Suddenly he remembers his NCIS issued phone that he left in his jacket from the night before, and he recalls it buzzing at least two –or was it three?- times on his drive in to LAPD Headquarters. At the time he had been too preoccupied with how he was going to handle Bates to even think about it. But now, with that task completed, it draws his attention. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he fishes the phone out and stares at the call display screen. As expected, it's Kensi calling him. Hell, it was probably her calling every time, wondering where he is. Briefly he considers answering. Not seriously of course, he knows he can't, but that doesn't stop him from really wanting to –from really needing to hear her voice. But thoughts of Kensi are interrupted and it's Quaide's voice instead that comes to him from the earwig in his right ear.

"Tsk tsk Martin. I would have thought you'd have enough sense not to bring that phone along. You're lucky I neglected to mention it, otherwise we would have quite a problem on our hands. I can't have you defying me after all. No doubt there's a trashcan nearby somewhere in the plaza. Find one and toss it in."

It only takes a second for Deeks to recall trash receptacles on either side of the main entrance, and when he does, he immediately makes his way to the one on the right, and stands before it.

The phone is still ringing, and Deeks takes a few last moments to stare at the picture ID of Kensi, as it shows across the screen. It was a picture he had taken several weeks ago, without her knowledge, as she sat at her desk doing paperwork. Idly, she chewed on one of her thumbnails while simultaneously twirling a small, loose lock of her dark hair in a finger of her other hand. All while staring down intently at a document on her desk. She had looked so cute… so adorable when Deeks had looked up from his own work and seen her, that he couldn't help but take this covert snapshot. Of course she probably would have hit him, had she known he had this picture on his phone, never mind having it set to display every time she called. But then, they were both allowed their secrets…weren't they?

Gently, in almost a soft caress, Deeks runs the tips of his fingers over the features of his partner, tracing the beautiful lines and curves of her face. _Oh Kensi, what have I done?_ Up until this point, he had tried so hard not to dwell on her, not to dwell on the ramifications that his actions this day –whatever they may be- will have on her. But he knows it can't be good. Did he make a mistake? All those many months ago, when they first became partners, she was so closed off, emotionally distant, and so damn serious. He can't blame her really, he knows enough about her past now that he understands what drove her to erect such high walls, and such seemingly impassable barriers. And deep within those walls and barriers she kept her heart, and her trust –two treasures of value beyond priceless, locked away from all to be kept safe from further harm. And Deeks, of course Deeks, in his own inimitable way, almost immediately began hammering away at her defenses -utilizing his good humor, charm, and easy going nature in a way that, try as she might, he was pretty sure she was powerless to defeat. Like an unending surf crashing against the shore, he wore her down, shrugging off her abuses, both physical and mental and carrying on undeterred. Until finally, her walls came crashing down, and he strode in over the rubble proud and triumphant, like a gallant knight returning from a long campaign. _Returning home._

Deeks was no fool. Kensi still has her barriers and she still is very good at hiding what she feels. Indeed, she was not the most expressive person in the world, but she expressed just how important he had come to be in her life in a thousand tiny ways that were singly Kensi. And now, having worked so hard to earn her trust, and to build a solid partnership, friendship…and mutual affection, here he was doing what he swore to himself he would never do. He was abandoning her, just like all the others. Granted it wasn't by choice, and he certainly couldn't have seen this coming, but that doesn't stop the guilt from flooding in at the knowledge of the certain harm he is about to cause. He would do almost anything to keep Kensi from harm, but sacrificing his sister is not one of them.

Drawn back to the phone, and the photo of his partner, Deeks whispers "I'm sorry Princess… I'm so sorry." He then drops the phone into the trash, turns, and walks back to the parking lot.

* * *

Kensi sits at her desk, idly tapping her pen on its surface between her thumb and forefinger, other hand holding her cell phone to her ear.

"C'mon Deeks, where the hell are you?" she mutters under her breath, as the phone rings on, and her all too irritating partner still refuses to pick up. Finally, reaching voicemail once again, she hangs up and tosses her phone onto the desk.

"Still no word from Deeks?" asks Sam, staring at her from his desk opposite her own.

Kensi leans back in her chair, and runs both hands across her scalp, through her hair in a gesture of slight irritation. "No, it rings, but I keep getting his voicemail. God he can be frustrating. Why can't he just show up on time for once?"

Sam smiles, slightly amused. "Relax Kens, he'll show up. This probably isn't even the latest he's ever been."

Kensi smiles in return, "Ya, I guess your right. Fifteen more minutes, and then I get Eric to track him down. And if I have to do that, Deeks is gonna regret it."

Callen and Sam both laugh at this, knowing full well that by the devilish grin on Kensi's face, that she is entirely serious. And knowing also that Deeks better arrive soon, if he knows what's good for him.

Sharing the laugh for several seconds, eventually the three teammates go back to their respective tasks, working in quiet communion.

"I just received a call from Lt. Bates," says Hetty, completely startling all three agents. Hetty's ninja-like movements have long since become a trademark of the diminutive woman, but still, the agents have yet to get used to her stealing in silently and surprising them at the most inopportune moments.

Kensi smiles at the slight surprise she just received from the Operations Manager, and thinks to herself that surely Hetty by now must do that entirely without thinking. But her ruminations about her boss are brought abruptly short as she keys in on the name 'Bates', remembering him to be Deeks' boss in the LAPD. Instantly she sobers, and looks on at Hetty with rapt interest as the old woman continues.

Sam and Callen look on as well, with the same interest.

"He informed me," Hetty continues after a heavy sigh, "that Detective Deeks walked into his office just a short time ago…and tendered his resignation from the LAPD."

Kensi's eyes go wide, and her mouth curls up in a slight smile. _Surely this is a joke. _She thinks._ This must be a joke. If not on Hetty's part, then surely that of Bates himself. Deeks would never do this…never._ But that same rational mind tells her that it's not a joke, that neither Hetty nor Bates would ever kid about such a thing, and that realization changes her countenance to one of shock…and horror.

Looking back to Hetty, Kensi sees the woman watching her, seemingly scrutinizing her with intense interest. After a long moment, Hetty opens her mouth to speak. "You didn't know." It was a statement, not a question. "I'm sorry Kensi, you and Mr. Deeks have such a tight bond, that I was almost certain he would have informed you prior to undertaking such an important action. If he didn't feel it was necessary to inform the rest of us that he was even considering resigning, he should have at least told his partner."

The hurt in Hetty's voice as she speaks of Deeks is evident. Although never outwardly expressive of the affection she holds for her team, all of them know that she considers them to be family, if not her own children. And Deeks behaviour on this day has left her reeling and hurt, impacting her almost as much as it has Kensi herself.

"Did Bates say why Deeks resigned?" asks Callen. And Kensi glances over to him, having completely forgotten that he was even there.

"No, he didn't Mr. Callen. That is to say, Lt. Bates asked, but Mr. Deeks declined to tell him his reasons. Initially, he believed that I was the cause for resignation, thinking that I had convinced him to resign and join NCIS officially instead. I only wish that I had."

Kensi shakes her head, trying to process. "This isn't right," she says, looking around to the others in the bullpen. "Deeks wouldn't just quit. Not without telling anyone." _Without telling ME._ "He wouldn't."

Suddenly overwhelmed with a torrent of conflicting emotions –hurt, rage, confusion, fear- Kensi has the sudden impulse to be alone, away from prying eyes that might see her in a state less than in absolute control. No sooner does the impulse occur to her than she is up and off heading towards the women's lavatory, the closest place for solace.

"Kensi wait…" Callen calls after, but she doesn't hear him, lost as she suddenly is, in a sea of horrible thoughts and possibilities.

Several minutes later, Kensi finds herself desperately grasping the edges of the sink with both hands, staring into her own eyes in the washroom mirror. Mind reeling, she still can't quite bring herself to believe it. Deeks, her partner, her friend, her…nothing else, how could he possibly quit the force…quit NCIS without telling her, and why? Instantly her mind is thrown back to the previous week, when the team raced frantically to prevent global disaster from a small pox pandemic. He had seemed so serious, so sober when he talked about how fragile the world really is. And he seemed so distraught and frustrated when he talked about how, despite that fragility, mankind still was all too eager to find ways to kill each other. Talking like that had scared her, and in a moment of weakness, she had dropped her defenses yet again…for him- and had let him know in her own way how much he has come to mean to her. She sought his eyes with her own then, so he could read her meaning in them, as he does oh so well, but he refused to meet her gaze for more than a moment. _Was it then?_ She wonders. _Was it possible that at that point he was contemplating just giving up?_ In her heart, she doesn't think so. But then she thinks back to later that night, when, as she was leaving the building for the night, he bellowed out to whomever would listen, asking them to think about what it would be like if he was no longer here. Kensi never told him about it, but she had thought about it then… thought about it all the way to her car, and for a significant portion of her ride home. And she hadn't liked that prospect at all. By the time she had pulled into her driveway, she had put herself into a dour mood and she wanted nothing more than to call her partner, to let his voice soothe her, and bring her back to a happy mood. She didn't of course. She didn't have the courage. She had worried that he would see right through her pretense for calling and instantly know how much she needed him.

"No." she says matter-of-factly to her mirror image, "Deeks wouldn't do this. Not him." _Not to me._ _There must be some mistake, _she thinks._ Or if not, then it's something else –he must be in trouble._

Kensi's eyes go wide as the thought enters her mind. And she continues to stare at the startled expression reflecting in the mirror, shocked to finally notice her cheeks wet, and her mismatched eyes, one hazel, and one black, moist and red from crying. Grabbing paper towel from the dispenser, she wipes clean her face, and marches determinedly out of the washroom, heading for the situation room.

Eric is sitting at his terminal, compiling surveillance data for a recently completed Op when Kensi comes storming into the room. The twin doors haven't even completed swishing shut before she's behind him, telling him what she wants.

"Eric I need you to access the footage to the security cams in the plaza outside of LAPD Headquarters."

Kensi isn't even finished asking before Eric is already putting his project on hold and accessing the requested footage. Something in her tone of voice has got Eric jumping to her commands, but he's not sure what.

"I've got live stream coming up on the big screen…now." He says, hitting the last key with a flourish. Instantly an array of different camera angles, all showing the same open space, appears on the screen and Kensi needs only a moment to find what she's looking for.

"There," she says, pointing to one camera centered squarely on the main entrance to the headquarters building. "Access that camera's footage, going back twenty minutes."

Eric nimbly strikes the keys with a deftness matched by few not in his profession, and within moments the selected camera maximizes to full size, and switches from live feed to footage from twenty minutes past.

"Can I ask what this is about Kensi?" Eric is curious now, having not yet heard about Deeks' resignation. But Kensi just ignores him.

"Ok, start moving forward from that point," she says instead.

Eric complies but ventures another question. "Um, Kensi, what exactly are we looking for?"

Kensi spares Eric the briefest of glances before returning to the screen. "We're looking for Deeks."

Eric stares at his teammate, unsure of what exactly is going on. But years of training has taught him, if nothing, that questions can wait, and all too often, carrying out actions as quickly as possible can be the difference between life and death. So, now that he knows what he's looking for, Eric begins scrolling forward a bit faster, looking for the telltale mop of golden hair that is signature Deeks. It only takes a handful of seconds before he finds him, and he slows down the video to normal speed.

"There," Kensi says belatedly. "Play it there."

Kensi and Eric watch then as Deeks walks out of the main entrance, stops, closes his eyes and turns his face to the sun. A few moments later, he opens his eyes, reaches into his coat and pulls out his phone. Standing there, with people bustling past him going in both directions, Kensi watches as he stares at the phone, briefly touches his right ear with his other hand, then immediately moves to his right, heading for a nearby trashcan. He stops there, and Eric and Kensi watch curiously as he continues to stare at the phone, touching its surface almost reverently. Looking into his face Kensi sees his lips move, and then, to her shock, he drops the phone into the can and walks away.

Wheeling about she turns on Eric. "Rewind that!" she demands, "and access another angle so we can see his face." Eric is quick to comply, suddenly downright alarmed at the serious, hell….anxious behaviour of his teammate.

As Eric works his magic on the keyboard, Kensi pulls out her own phone and accesses the list of recent calls she's made. Absently she notices that virtually all the names on the list are that of her partner, but she doesn't care about that, what she cares about is the exact time she placed her last call to Deeks. _9:43am. That sounds about right._

"I got your footage coming onscreen Kensi." Eric says, drawing her attention back to the monitor.

Kensi watches as the scene once again unfolds. This time she sees her partner head on as he approaches and stops before the trash can. Once again she watches him reverently touch his phone, and, eyes on his mouth, she easily lip-reads what he says before tossing the phone and walking away.

"Time stamp on the camera says 9:44am," she says absently. _I was calling you then._

Eric, not sure if that comment was meant for him or not, responds "Ya, that's right. Is that important? Kensi, what's going on here? I saw his lips moving, what did he say?"

Kensi looks over at Eric, and he's taken aback by the dramatic change in the agent. Anxious no more, but staring at him now with such sorrow. "He said…'I'm sorry'." And with that, Kensi Blye turns around and quietly walks out the door.


	4. Chapter 3

Deeks climbs into the drivers seat of his Chevy Malibu, buckles up, and proceeds to drive off the lot, not exactly sure of where he's going. He is about to ask Quaide, through his earwig comm device, where he needs to go next, when the other man speaks first.

"You took your time tossing that phone Martin," he says, and by the tone of his voice Deeks can tell he wasn't happy about it. "I told you before, you are to follow my instructions exactly, with no stalling, and no hesitation. Consider this your last warning. If you do it again, I hurt your sister."

Deeks clenches his jaw, half in anger and half in frustration at his own weakness. In a moment of weakness he slipped and he allowed himself to dwell yet again on his partner. And in this situation, he can ill afford to allow thoughts of her to continually distract him. But he can't help himself. If he is going to die today, and he truly believes that is the case, how can he help but think about all of the things left unsaid? How can he stop dwelling on the terrifying fact that he will never see, nor hear her again? He tries instead to focus on his little sister and the horrifying situation she is now in, but doing that just sends his heart racing and sends him careening towards panic. All he can do, all he must do, is focus on doing what he's told, to hell with everything else. It's the only way she will survive.

"I'm sorry," he responds eventually, "it won't happen again."

"See that is doesn't… for Rebecca's sake." Quaide is quiet for a time then before speaking again. "Time now for your next task Martin. You're heading in the right direction, now if you'll just pull out the phone i gave you, you'll see I texted you an address. I want you to drive there."

Deeks fishes out the flip phone and opens it up to look at the address. His eyes widen a bit as he recognizes it. Recognizes it all too well.

Sometime later, Deeks finds himself driving through a run-down neighborhood in Reseda. Unerringly, he navigates through the streets heading to the address he knew so well growing up, that of the Brandel family. Approaching the house, he is a bit startled at how little it has changed in the twenty odd years it's been since he had lived there. It was a piece of shit then, and it was only slightly more of a piece of shit now. He guesses whoever lives there now has been putting in an at least moderate attempt to keep it in shape.

"Welcome home Martin," announces Quaide, interrupting his thoughts. "How does it feel to be back in your old stomping grounds? You'll want to pull to the side of the road behind that black cavalier up ahead."

Deeks doesn't bother answering as he pulls up behind the black car. And in truth, even if he was inclined to do so, he isn't sure what he would say. So many memories rush back to him as he gazes at the house, some good, mostly bad. But it's such a confused jumble that he isn't sure how he feels over all. Shutting off the ignition, he forces himself back to the present. "So I'm here Quaide. What is it you want me to do?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll have no trouble completing this task Martin. You will use the keys I gave you to unlock the trunk of the black car in front of you. Inside, you will find two canisters filled with gasoline. All you need to do, is take one of those canisters, douse your car, inside and out, with gas, and then light a match. Oh by the way, you will find matches in the trunk as well. After that, get in the black car, and drive away."

Deeks is stunned. He wasn't really sure what he was expecting as far as these 'tasks' went. But it didn't even occur to him that it would result in him setting his own car on fire. "Why…" he begins, but falters.

"Oh, it's rather simple. When I'm done with you, well…" he chuckles, "that is, before I actually kill you, I'm pretty sure every cop in the city is going to be keeping an eye out for you. And I really don't want to take the chance that they can manage to track you down by the GPS tracking beacon that is no doubt inside your car. Anyway, enough talk. Carry out your task. I must admit, I shall enjoy watching this."

Deeks immediately gets out of his car, daring not risk inducing the man's ire a second time. _It's just a car._ He tells himself. It's not like he's going to need it much longer anyway.

Walking over to the Cavalier's trunk, he pops it open, pulls out one of the gas cans, and proceeds to carry out his second task.

* * *

"Ha ha ha! That was wonderful Martin! The way it just burst into flames was a marvel to behold. You've had the car for quite some time yeah? I do hope you hadn't left anything of value in it."

Deeks grinds his teeth at the irritating voice speaking in his ear. Driving at a good clip down the road in the Cavalier, he can still see in the rearview mirror, the heavy plumes of black smoke rising up into the clear blue sky in the distance behind him. Aside from already wanting to kill the man with his bare hands, Quaide is really getting on his nerves. Not the least of which because he keeps calling him 'Martin'. "Where to now?" is all he says in return.

Quaide is still chuckling when he responds, "oh, I think you can probably figure that out for yourself. You still have one more canister of gas in that trunk, after all."

Deeks is thunderstruck, but he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. Shouldn't be surprised at all. If the man got that much enjoyment at watching him torch his car, then he's probably only getting started. Switching lanes, he sets a course for home.

* * *

_It was no mistake, he really resigned._ Kensi sits at her desk, trying in vain to appear to her teammates that she is actually getting work done. Callen and Sam are no fools though, they've known her too damn long and know damn well that Deeks and her were close partners. They are well aware she isn't taking his departure well at all. Having discovered that Deeks truly was at LAPD headquarters, and that he obviously had tendered his resignation as well, the implications of that has got Kensi's mind racing as to what it means. She's still positive that Deeks must be in some kind of trouble. It's the only explanation that makes sense, because there is no way, no way in hell, he would just do what he did without telling her. _We are closer than that. _Inwardly she marvels at that knowledge, for she knows it was a long time coming before she came to trust him and know him so completely as to know that this is something he would never do. Many times she silently cursed having him for a partner, but many more times, she was quietly thankful he was. No…no matter what Hetty or the others think, she refuses to accept that other possibility, and the hurt that would surely accompany it. But try as she might, she can't for the life of her, reason out exactly what kind of trouble he might be in. Desperately, she wants to seek him out, to go to him. But when she came down from the situation room earlier, and announced to all that she was heading over to Deeks place to wait for, and talk to him. Hetty had shot down that plan almost instantly, saying that Deeks was no longer a concern for her, or anyone else at NCIS – well, at least during work hours anyway. Hetty is so obviously hurt by Deeks' actions, and try as she might, Kensi was unable to convince the older woman of her own belief that something was wrong. She just hopes that whatever it is, Deeks can handle it on his own until she can go to him after work.

Realizing she has been staring at her partner's empty desk, and probably has been doing so for some time now, Kensi flashes quick glances at Sam and Callen, to see if they noticed her lapse. Callen is busy as usual, attacking his paperwork with the usual gung-ho attitude that she often envies. He doesn't seem bothered at all by the fact that an important member of their team mysteriously called it quits today. But Kensi has come to know Callen well enough over the last few years to know that it does bother him, he's just better at not letting it show. Focusing on a task is how he copes, and she wishes she could muster the focus to do the same. Maybe it would make this day go by faster.

Sam, on the other hand, is distractedly making a small piece of origami, which Kensi knows he often does when he is troubled by something. She knows he too is thinking about Deeks, although he would never admit it. Those two clash almost as often as Deeks and herself do it seems, but Kensi knows that deep down Sam has a great deal of respect for Deeks and for his abilities, even though he does find him incredibly annoying much of the time. Kensi then finds herself smiling faintly, reminded about the joke Sam made at Deeks' expense last week, about having picked him up from the pound. It really was a most excellent joke. And Deeks himself probably found it to be the funniest of all of them, given that beautiful grin that lit up his face. That was always one of Deeks most endearing qualities, the fact that the rest of the team can give him a hard time almost day in and day out, and he seems to just laugh it off and let nothing phase him. Kensi often finds herself envious of Deeks carefree, easy-going attitude.

Kensi shakes her head at how, despite her repeated attempts at focusing on her work, her thoughts repeatedly stray to Deeks. And not just worry about him, but thoughts about the man himself and their time together. She turns her mind once more to the paperwork sitting in front of her, determined to get some of it done. But she barely begins before she hears a familiar shrill whistle coming from the top of the stairs.

Kensi, Sam and Callen all look up from their respective undertakings and give their attention to Eric, standing on the stairs. Hetty too, wanders out of her office and comes to stand by the entrance to the bullpen, staring curiously at Eric.

"Do we have a new case Mr. Beale?" she asks the logistics expert and all around computer guru.

Eric glances briefly at Hetty, but his eyes eventually land on Kensi as he says "I think you're all gonna want to come and see this."

With that, he turns around and walks back towards the situation room, with the other four not far behind.

"What do you got Eric?" asks Callen, the first one into the room, though Sam, Kensi and Hetty are not far behind.

Eric is once again at his usual station, typing away on his keyboard. After a few seconds, he gets up with tablet in hand and gestures towards the big screen. "I've been monitoring LAPD communications, standard practice of course, and I hit upon something you should be aware of." Tapping his stylus to the tablet, Eric brings up video footage from a police cruiser dashcam, showing a car engulfed in flames, a little further down the street.

"The Police and Fire Department were called to this neighborhood in Reseda," he continues, "approximately twenty minutes ago due to reports of a car that was set on fire. Upon arrival, the police ran the license plate that was still on the car, and, well…the car belongs to Deeks."

The rest of the team look towards each other and Eric, expressions of confusion and surprise evident on their faces. Eventually they turn back to the video footage of the burning car onscreen, and the firemen busily trying to quench the blaze.

"It's Deeks car?" Callen asks, thinking there must be some mistake.

"Yeah. It is." Eric replies. "And there's more. Witnesses who called in the fire are also saying that it was the driver of the car who set it on fire, and… the driver's description matches Deeks."

Kensi feels her breath catch when Eric says this. And her stomach once again resumes doing flip-flops, causing her to steady herself by grabbing the counter she is leaning up against. At first mention of the car belonging to Deeks, she _knew_, just knew that somehow this was tied together with whatever trouble he is in. But initial panic for his well-being is suddenly replaced by a new panic when she hears he set the fire himself. _What the hell is going on Deeks? _she wonders.

"Why would Deeks torch his own car?" Sam asks. But Kensi ignores the question and turns to Hetty, urgency in her voice.

"You see Hetty," she says, confronting the smaller woman, "I told you Deeks was in trouble. It makes about as much sense for him to quit without telling anybody, as it does for him to set his own car on fire and walk away. Something is happening to him Hetty, and we have to help him."

Henrietta Lang meets her youngest agents eyes for a long time, contemplating this new information. _Was Kensi right all along?_ She asks herself. The idea that Mr. Deeks is truly in some sort of trouble and that her own stung pride got in the way of her listening to the one person who knows Deeks best, and getting him the help he needs almost makes her cringe. But showing weakness in front of her agents is something Hetty never allows herself to do. The team needs a strong leader in order to function at its best, and now is no exception.

Nodding slowly in assent, while still meeting Kensi's eyes, Hetty says "you're right of course Ms. Blye. Mr. Deeks may no longer officially be one of us, but we owe it to him to get to the bottom of this, and make sure he's ok. I think it's time that you went and checked on your ex-partner at his home Ms. Blye. Callen and Sam will follow you, just in case."

Hetty sees visible relief flood onto Kensi's face, and the young woman is heading out the door practically before she even finishes speaking. Looking to Callen, she cautions "She seems a bit tightly wound today Mr. Callen. Do try to make sure she's ok will you? Right now she is clinging to the belief that Mr. Deeks is in some kind of trouble. While that may be so, if this does turn out to have some explanation, and Mr. Deeks has indeed resigned of his own volition, I'm not certain how well Ms. Blye is going to react. She may need a friend."

Callen nods silently, and follows Sam out of the room.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N - **Sorry_ this update is so short (for those of you actually reading the story - thank you), but don't worry the next update is quite a bit longer. And things start getting good. :)_

* * *

Deeks takes a long hard look around his apartment, committing its layout to his mind. Briefly his gaze settles on his 'Dogs playing poker' painting hanging in a position of pride on his living room wall. He loves that painting, not the least because he knows Kensi hates it, but he knows he can easily buy another. Not so for a lot of his other belongings. Deeks was never one to collect junk. He was never a pack-rat like his polar opposite Kensi Blye, but nevertheless, he had managed to collect a fair amount of treasured knick-knacks and items over the course of his adult life. Not the least of which being his surf board which he had since he was nineteen, leaning up by the front door. Sighing to himself, he tells himself that he must not delay, that too much is at stake. So, with sadness, he begins unscrewing the cap to the gas can in his hand, and slowly begins to slosh gasoline all over his apartment.

He goes into his bedroom first, throwing a couple good swings in the direction of his bed, all nicely made up like he does every morning. Then he turns and chucks gasoline all over his fine collection of shirts, hanging so neatly in his closet. Damn, he loves some of those shirts, a lot.

Moving out into the hall, walking backwards and sloshing gas onto the floor as he goes, Deeks takes a moment to chuck some into the bathroom as he passes by and then goes into the kitchen. Here he stops for a moment, then walks over to the fridge and opens the door.

"Would it be alright if I grabbed a beer, y'know, before I burned my apartment to ash?" Deeks asks the madman through his earwig. Try as he might, he just can't keep the contempt from his voice.

But Quaide isn't offended. He merely chuckles quietly and says "Sure Martin. Knock yourself out. But don't waste too much time, I would imagine you don't have long before the cops start knocking on your door for that stunt you pulled earlier."

Deeks barks out a sharp laugh as he grabs a beer -his last beer- from the fridge. "…stunt.." he says, somehow finding sick humor in Quaide's choice of words. Unscrewing the cap, Deeks takes several long pulls from the bottle, nearly draining it dry. Setting the bottle down, he then wipes his mouth with his wrist while taking a last look around the kitchen. Turning back to the entryway, he sloshes gas onto the table and floor as he goes.

Coming back to the living room, he starts dumping gasoline all over the furniture, TV and walls. As he comes to Monty's bed sitting beside his couch, he's thankful that he had the presence of mind to leave the dog earlier that morning with his neighbor, Ms. Patterson, a friendly retiree who lives alone on the main floor. She has a dog of her own, and he and Monty always get along great. Had he not done so, Deeks is not sure that Quaide would have even allowed Deeks to take Monty with him, for he did say that Deeks was to leave everything behind. But burning his dog is something he could never do. Could he? Even if it meant saving his sister? Shuddering to himself, he is just thankful he didn't have to make the choice.

Finally arriving at his desk, he spares a glance for the collection of things that had accumulated on and around it. Slung over the chair back hangs his cloth bag, which he has brought to work with him every day these past two or more years. And in the right drawer still lies the application form to join NCIS that Hetty had given him last year. His laptop still sits on his desk, filled with a fair bit of media…memories –pictures and video he took of himself and the team over the course of his time at NCIS. Kensi didn't like her picture taken at first, but as the months wore on, she came around. There is actually quite a few on there of her acting the goof, after a few too many during after hours drinks with the others. Deeks smiles at that thought, but his smile fades as he begins dumping the last of the gas all over the desk and the floor around the front door.

Finally finished, he tosses the can into the center of the room, takes a final look, steps back outside and tosses in his lit match.

Involuntarily, a tear escapes from Deeks eyes, and trickles down his face, as his apartment -his home- bursts into flames in a rather loud 'WHOOSH'. Simultaneously, he hears a gasp of excitement, followed by laughter, emanating from the earwig lodged in his ear. _Damn you Quaide. If I can't make you pay, I hope to hell somebody else does._

The fire gains in intensity quickly, and Deeks makes his way down the balcony to the stairs. Reaching them, he pulls the fire alarm handle positioned on the wall at the top of the landing. Instantly, the fire alarm bell sounds, and it's strident ring echoes out throughout the entire apartment complex. Deeks knows that pulling the lever will automatically summon the Fire Department, and already he is starting to notice neighbors exiting their apartments, looking around in confusion. Some of them immediately spot the billowing smoke coming from Deeks' open apartment, and soon the alert to the seriousness of the situation begins to spread.

Deeks nods in satisfaction, and descends the stairs. He's done all he can here, hopefully the fire won't spread too far out of his apartment, and hopefully, no one will be injured from the blaze. Approaching the black Cavalier parked in his usual space, Deeks can already hear the faint sound of approaching sirens.

* * *

Kensi stares dumbstruck from the driver's seat of her Cadillac SRX, gazing unbelievingly at the literal inferno that had once been her partner's apartment. The Fire Department seem to have the blaze contained to just Deeks unit, but still it rages on.

Having arrived about fifteen minutes ago, Kensi had brought her car to a screeching halt after spending the final minute of her journey speeding recklessly down the street once she noticed the huge plumes of billowing black smoke rising into the sky off in the distance. Upon seeing it she knew what she would find, it made sense in some weird way, although nothing about the events of the day truly made any sort of sense in a rational way. Exiting the car, she had been almost frantic with concern that Deeks might have still been in his apartment when that fire was lit -for of course it must have been lit, just like his car -, but quick conversations with the officers on the scene and the fire chief relieved that worry. No one was in the apartment, and no one had been hurt. Someone had pulled the fire alarm quickly enough that there was only minimal damage to surrounding units, and Kensi had a pretty good idea who that someone was.

So now here she sits, in her car, unsure of how to proceed. Silently she watches as Callen and Sam confer with the officers up ahead. She knows that the Police have now stepped up their search for Deeks, as he's now wanted on suspicion of two counts of arson. And being no fan of the ex-LAPD detective to begin with, Kensi fears that the cops might just be looking for him a little harder than they would anyone else. But even more worrying to her is what they might do if and when they catch him. Under the wrong circumstances… _No._ Kensi doesn't allow her mind to travel down that road. It's more important to figure out what the hell is going on, and hopefully, for NCIS –_For me_- to find Deeks before anyone else. If only she knew where to start.

The only clue she has presently came from her conversation with Ms. Patterson, the old woman that Kensi knew Deeks often had Monty stay with when he knew he would be gone for a while. She had spotted the old woman, with her own dog and Monty in tow, standing with the crowd of onlookers, watching from the street as the blaze still raged on in the apartment. Having spotted Monty first, Kensi approached the woman who she had never actually met before, and asked her about Deeks. All she said was that Deeks had dropped off Monty that morning and did not give a specific time for when he planned to pick him up again. Although it wasn't much, the mere fact that Deeks left Monty with a sitter told her that he wasn't expecting a normal day today. He was expecting to be gone a long time.

"Oh, Deeks…" she mutters out loud, "where the hell are you, and what the hell is going on?"

The sound of her own voice in the quiet of her car is strangely deafening to her ears.


	6. Chapter 5

Deeks drives down the road, hand clenched tightly on the steering wheel. Try as he might, he just can't bring himself to focus. So many thoughts are warring in his head, fighting for dominance to occupy his mind. There is his fear for his sister's safety, his worry for his partner _now EX-partner_, he has to remind himself-, plus he still has a hard time accepting all the things he has thus far had to do today. He was there…he did them all, but he still has a hard time believing it. Briefly he wonders if he might be in shock. About the only thing that doesn't concern him much is the fact that he's most likely going to die before all this is over. In truth, by this point it would probably be a small mercy –to put an end to his mental suffering. Maybe he could…

"You know Martin," Quaide's voice breaks Deeks from his reverie, and brings him instantly back to the present, all thoughts briefly forgotten, "when I was in prison, I planned for a long time the course that my revenge would take. And during that time, at night, I used to fantasize about what it would feel like each step of the way, for you…and for me. Now I know that I am enjoying myself immensely so far, but I'm curious Martin, what does it feel like for you?"

Deeks isn't quite sure how to respond, "Feel like? It feels like shit you fucking psycho."

Quaide chuckles again, "That's not exactly the response I was looking for. Within the course of the last few hours, you have lost your career –that meant so much to you-, and you have lost practically every worldly possession you ever owned, aside from the clothes on your back. To top it all off, you're former comrades-in-arms, the LAPD, now have a warrant out for your arrest. And I'll wager every cop who ever knew you, and probably many who didn't, are now out looking for you as we speak –looking for the good cop gone bad.

"As you yourself just pointed out, I'm not a cop any more." Is all Deeks can think of to say.

"True, true. But do you really think that is a distinction that will matter all that much to them? Especially if they don't like you, and I have heard that you didn't have many friends on the force. So tell me Martin, I have taken everything away from you, and left you with nothing. How does it feel?"

_Empty. I finally feel empty._ But Deeks doesn't respond, choosing instead to just focus on driving. With his shattered nerves, combined with L.A. driving, he had already come close to two serious accidents in the last handful of minutes.

"You don't wish to share…ok." Quaide says finally. "I could make you, but I'm more interested in getting started with the second phase of my plan. The first phase was exciting and all that, but the second phase promises to be so much more entertaining. Now, enough random driving Martin, you're new destination is a place that you know quite well… the Sandune convenience store."

Upon hearing the name, Deeks eyes open in surprise. He used to frequent that store almost every day at some point during his morning runs. Coffee and a morning paper from there were as much a ritual for him as the run itself had been. That is until the day he was shot there. Since that day, he has been back, sure, but only about once or twice a month, which was about as often as his newly practiced tradecraft of non-routine would allow. Deeks couldn't fathom why Quaide would want him to go there of all places. But he knew without question he sure as hell wasn't going to like the answer.

Half an hour later, Deeks pulls the black Cavalier over to the side of the road to park and shuts off the engine. Looking through the windshield, he can see the convenience store about thirty feet down the street, giving off an ominous foreboding that he can't quite understand. "I'm here," he says through the earwig to the man holding his sister. _But WHY am I here?_

"I can see that," Quaide responds, "now comes the good part. I want you to reach over and open the glove compartment. In it, you will find a .38 caliber Smith Wesson revolver. It's fully loaded, but you can check it if you like. Your task this time is an interesting one Martin, but simple if you manage to stay focused and don't do anything stupid. All I want you to do is walk into that store and rob the place at gunpoint."

Deeks is rocked, _Rob a store at gunpoint? What the hell?_

"Now I know that you are familiar with the owner of that particular store, that's why I chose it. And if you're thinking about figuring out some way to get the money without brandishing your weapon about, or maybe of warning them or letting them in on our little game, think again. I will be watching remember, and if you stray, even a little bit, from the course I have set, I will hurt, or maybe even kill, your sister."

"You don't have to keep reminding me. I'll do your task, but I won't shoot anyone." Deeks replies.

"Who said anything about 'shoot'? I just said 'rob'. And I'm hurt Martin that you would think me so callous towards another persons life."

Deeks can hear the other man's faint chuckle and he grinds his teeth in response.

Reaching over, he pops open the glove box, and proceeds to pull out the indicated gun. The compartment is otherwise completely empty.

Deeks takes a moment, examining the gun. He's never felt quite comfortable using any hand gun other than his own berretta, and instantly his mind flashes back to an argument he had once had with Kensi because of it. How was it so hard for her to understand? Guns are not toys to be played with. Deeks had always spent a lot of time on the care and maintenance of his weapon. He cleaned it himself religiously, he always loaded the ammunition himself, and when it came time to actually use it, he knew what to expect. Having fired that gun so many times he knew, with complete familiarity, every aspect of it. He knew its recoil and how to compensate, he knew the feel of the trigger, and the weight. But most importantly, he could trust, with absolute certainty, that he had taken every care, therefore minimizing the likelihood of any misfire or accident. He could fire Kensi's or some other persons gun…sure, if it came right down to it. But in the end, it was like getting behind the wheel of a strange car. You could drive it, but you didn't really know the feel of the car, not like if you had driven it for months. Only unlike a car, a gun could blow up in your hands.

Continuing with his inspection, the weapon seems adequate and properly maintained. The bullets seem real, and he supposes they are. But he wouldn't know for sure until it came time to actually pull the trigger. But Deeks was resolute that that wasn't going to happen.

Opening the door to the Cavalier, Deeks steps out and begins to make his way to the convenience store.

"Marty!" Frank immediately greets him as he steps through the door. "Long time no see my friend! You know, you really should come around more often."

Deeks can't help but smile at the amiable man standing behind the counter. Frank, the owner, and man who had been working the morning Deeks had been shot over a year ago. In this, one for the books, overall shitty day, Frank is really the first truly friendly face he's seen all day. Much like himself, the man had a temperament and personality that could instantly put others at ease. And with all Deeks has gone through thus far, he could use any help he could find to just lighten his mood just a little bit.

But no sooner does the smile cross his face, and his mouth open to greet the other man, when he instantly remembers why he's there, and what he has to do, thus sobering his expression. Frank's smile begins to falter as the moments tick by and Deeks does not answer, and the serious expression now etched on the younger man's face, causes it to disappear completely.

"Are you OK Marty? Is something wrong?" the owner asks warily.

Deeks takes a deep breath, and fists his left hand to stop the trembling occurring within it. The trembling is still evident in his right hand though, as he pulls the gun out of his jacket pocket and points it at the other man.

"I…I'm gonna need you to empty out your cash register Frank. Do it quick please, I don't want to hurt you." Deeks voice is laced with tremors as well. His mind races as he tries to grasp the truth of his own actions. He spent his entire life in pursuit of upholding the law, and here he was, threatening to hurt an innocent man, a kind man, if he didn't give him his hard earned money. Deeks had no intention of ever hurting Frank of course. But by the look that had come over Frank's face when Deeks pulled out the gun, he didn't know that.

"Marty?" the tone in the older man's voice crushes Deeks' heart. So many times they had laughed and joked together when he came in for his morning coffee. He could hear uncertainty, confusion and trepidation all coursing through that one word…his name.

"Just do it Frank. Please. Just do it and then I'll leave."

Deeks isn't sure if it's the reluctance that Frank must surely hear in Deeks' own voice, or if it's the history of friendly conversations they have shared, but the man is still making no moves to comply, and Deeks is getting anxious.

"Oh my god!" a woman's voice screams from further into the store, from the same general direction that Deeks' own shooter had come from many months before. Deeks curses himself for not checking that the store was empty of customers before pulling out the gun. But then, it's not like he had ever done this before, and he certainly wasn't in the presence of mind to think clearly anyway.

He turns partially to face the woman, unconsciously brandishing his gun in her direction. The woman stands there, frozen, with a basket of groceries in one hand and the other hand to her mouth.

"Be cool," Deeks says, "I'm not going to hurt you." But before he can say more, a small boy exits the aisle behind the woman and comes to stand beside her. His big innocent eyes stare into Deeks own. The boy's eyes widen when he sees the gun, and fear slowly creeps over his countenance, and he unconsciously seeks out his mother's hand. Deeks isn't sure if the boy's fear stems from recognition of the danger the gun poses, or if it's just his mother's fear-filled cries that he is reacting to. But either way, Deeks himself is the cause, and upon this realization, he lowers the gun, shaking his head in self-disgust.

_A kid. It's just a kid, and I_ _just pointed a gun at him._

"Please don't hurt us," the woman pleads, a strangled note of desperation in her voice. "We won't cause any trouble, I swear."

"Shoot her! Shoot them both!" a malicious voice echoes into his ear, followed by delighted laughter.

Deeks puts his free hand to his ear, as if that might somehow shut out the laughter, and yells. "Shut up Quaide! Just shut the hell up." But the laughter continues, unabated.

Turning back to face Frank, he once more raises the gun to the older man. "Listen Frank, enough stalling, just put the money into a bag. I don't want anybody to get hurt."

Frank stares for a long moment in Deeks eyes, but he doesn't see malice or hatred there. He sees fear, desperation and resolve instead. As sure as he knows anything, Frank is certain Deeks has no intention of hurting anyone, but he's also certain that for whatever reason, he needs the money. Sighing in resignation, he pulls out a paper bag from under the counter, opens the till and begins emptying out the register.

Handing over the bag, Deeks takes it and hurries out the door. Several feet down the street from the entrance, on his way back to the car, he tosses the paper bag, money and all, into a trash can by the side of the building, the disgust he feels at just holding that bag being more than he can bear.

Angling back to the car, he gets in, and speeds away.

* * *

"This just doesn't make any sense G." Sam says. He and Callen are still standing together, outside of Deeks apartment building, observing as the Fire Department puts out the last of the flames. "I mean, quitting I can understand. Torching your car, a fair bit weirder, but I've heard of cases where people destroy their own cars cause they're pissed off for one reason or another. In Deeks case, unlikely but maybe it could have happened. Torching your own home though? There's no way Deeks would do that. Not of his own volition. So if he did it, the question is, who made him? And how?"

Callen looks from the building to his partner and friend, "I don't know Sam, but things are escalating, and I don't like it. We have to find Deeks, and fast."

The two agents spend several moments conferring on how they are going to accomplish this when Callen's phone rings.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he sees OPS in the caller ID window. Turning on the speaker, he says "What have you got for us Eric? Please tell me you have a line on Deeks."

"I don't have an exact fix on his location yet Callen, but you're gonna want to hear this. A report just came out on the Police band," says Eric, "and you're not going to like it. Deeks just held up a convenience store."

Sam and Callen stare at each other incredulously. Even if he needed the money, which he doesn't, Deeks would never commit armed robbery. This latest development just cements their theory that someone is pulling Deeks' strings, and Callen and Sam wordlessly reach that same conclusion and read it in each others gaze.

Callen looks back to the phone in his hand, "We need to head over there. What's the address on that convenience store Eric?"

"It's Sandune convenience store, over on Culver Boulevard," replies the technical analyst.

Callen looks back to Sam curiously, "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Isn't that the store where Deeks was shot?" answers the big man.

"Yeah, that's right, Sandune, and it's not far from here. We gotta go. Eric, pull up any camera feeds you can from that area, see if you can identify what Deeks is driving, and if so, run his car through Kaleidoscope."

"Already on it Callen, I'll let you know when I find him."

Callen puts his phone back in his pocket and makes his way towards Kensi's car, while Sam heads for his Challenger.

Coming up to the SRX's driver side window, Callen taps on the glass, startling the young agent inside who was clearly lost in thought. Kensi roles down the window and begins speaking before Callen has a chance.

"Callen, I've been thinking, there has got to be someone making Deeks do these things. I mean, if you think about it, he's lost everything today, his job, his home and his car. You know Deeks, there's no way he would do any of these things on his own."

"Your right Kensi, I do know Deeks, and I think you're right. But this just got more complicated…Deeks just robbed a convenience store not far from here."

Kensi's expression mirrors what must have been Callen's own upon hearing the news a short time ago. He reads incredulity in her face, which slowly gives way to understanding as she begins to realize that this news strengthens her theory. Suddenly though, panic crosses her features with an abrupt thought and she asks, "was he… was anyone hurt?"

Callen ponders a moment the question he didn't think to ask, but finally says "Eric didn't say, but if that were the case, I'm pretty sure he would have mentioned it. We gotta go Kensi, follow us down there."

Callen turns and heads to his waiting partner. Shortly afterwards, the three agents speed off, hot on the trail of their wayward teammate.

Less than ten minutes later, the team arrives at the convenience store, which already has a squad car parked in front of it. Callen, Sam and Kensi make their way through the doors, and approach the front counter where Frank the owner is still giving his statement to a police officer, who is busily scratching statement details down on his pad.

The officer looks up at the trio as they enter, and seems about to say something when Callen flashes his badge. "NCIS," he says, "Deeks was one of ours, we need to ask the owner a few questions."

Kensi didn't miss the past-tense phrasing Callen had used in referring to Deeks, and she felt a chill run through her body at the grim reminder that he was now no longer officially part of the team. _No longer my Partner._ The one consolation, she reminded herself, was that maybe her theory was correct, and that this might all be rectified before Deeks did something there was truly no coming back from. Even now though, with all he had done, she wasn't sure what the consequences would be for him even if he was coerced. But she forced herself not to dwell on that line of thought.

The officer looks from Callen to the other two agents, and nods his assent. "Go ahead," he says, "I need to call into the precinct anyway." And with that, the officer heads over to a corner of the store for some privacy, talking into his police radio as he goes.

Callen looks from the officer to Frank, still standing behind the counter. "Do you remember us? We talked to you the day Detective Deeks was shot in your store."

"Yes, yes, of course," replies the older man. "I remember. You worked with Marty."

"That's right, can you tell us what happened here exactly?"

"Well, as I was telling the officer, Marty walked in, no more than twenty minutes ago now, and I was happy to see him…you know, cause it had been so long. He hardly ever comes in here any more. Not like he used to. Anyway, I could tell right away something was wrong…he was so serious. And that's not like Marty at all. Marty would always come in with a joke and a smile. Such a nice man."

Callen nods in assent at the rather accurate description of his former teammate. "And then what happened?" he asks.

"Well, I asked him if anything was wrong, and he just pulled out a gun, pointed it at me and told me to empty the register. Then Sarah, that's her over there," the agents briefly glance in the indicated direction to see a young woman with her child, standing some feet away talking to another officer, "she came out from the back, startling Marty when she screamed. He told her he wasn't going to hurt her, he then turned back to me, I gave him the money, and he left."

"And that's it?" Sam asks, "he didn't say anything else?"

Frank ponders for a moment, "no…" but then he pauses, and seems to reconsider. "Now that you mention it, Sarah had asked him not to hurt her, or her son, and right after that he screamed for someone to 'Shut up'."

This captures the attention of the three agents immediately, "Someone?" Kensi asks, "he wasn't talking to Sarah?"

"At first I thought so," replies Frank, "but thinking back, I definitely remember him calling someone by name. But there was no one else here."

"What name?" Callen asks, he and the others are keenly interested now, realizing this might be the break they are looking for.

"Quaide. It was definitely Quaide."

"Quaide…" Callen turns and heads towards the door, pulling out his phone, with Kensi close behind.

Sam, still standing at the counter, nods to Frank in appreciation. "Thanks for your help Frank, what you remembered might just help us out." Then turning his head, he nods to the surveillance camera perched on the ceiling to the right of the front counter. "Does that camera work yet?" he asks.

Frank shrugs with embarrassment, "no, sorry. I tried to figure it out, but I'm afraid I just wound up putting it off."

Sam shakes his head but smiles all the same. "One of these days, you're gonna have to get that thing working." He then turns to follow Callen and Kensi out the door.

"Excuse me, agent," Franks calls after Sam, bringing him to a halt, "just so you know, I don't know why Marty robbed me, but I could see it in his face…it wasn't because he wanted to. If I am any judge of character, I would say that it was breaking his heart to have to do it. If you find him, you tell him for me that I know he is still a nice man."

Sam smiles and nods again at the store owner, "I think you're right Frank, and I think Deeks... Marty... is lucky to have a friend like you."

The owner returns his smile and nod, then Sam turns and continues out the door.

Exiting out to the street, Sam approaches Callen and Kensi, who are talking to Eric via phone speaker.

"…Quaide Eric, no other name." Callen tells the man in OPS, "I need you to cross reference that name with every felon that Deeks has put away."

"Working…" the agents stand silent for several moments as Eric undertakes his task. A short while later, he comes back on the speaker, "sorry Callen, I'm not finding anyone named Quaide in Deeks arrest history."

Callen looks at Sam with an intensity that the big man has come to recognize as his look when in intense concentration. Moments later Callen says, "Deeks and this Quaide must have crossed paths sometime in the past. Eric, I want you to broaden your search. Look for any felons with the first or last name of Quaide. Focus on the greater Los Angeles area, and start first with recent parolees, going back one year."

"One second," the quick tapping of a keyboard can be heard faintly over the phone, not entirely masked by the sound of light traffic passing by on the road. "Here we go, I have a John Quaide who was released from prison just over eight months ago. He failed to check in with his parole officer approximately two weeks after he was released, and he's been in the wind ever since."

"Eric, who was Quaide's arresting officer?" This time it is Kensi who speaks.

"Arresting officer was a Detective Joe Sullivan. Quaide was arrested about nine years ago."

Sam's turn to speak, "Is Sullivan still with the LAPD?"

Eric is quiet for several long seconds, once again typing out on his keyboard in OPS.

"Eric?" Callen asks.

"Callen… Joe Sullivan is dead. He transferred to San Francisco four years ago, but five months ago, he mysteriously quit the SFPD, went on a crime spree across the city the same day, and wound up shot and killed by the Police when they finally caught up to him."

The team looks at each other upon hearing this, recognition and sudden certainty in each of their gazes.

"Now that sounds familiar." Sam mutters.

"Eric, did Joe Sullivan have a family?" Callen continues. They are starting to put all the pieces together, and he doesn't like the picture that is forming. Not at all.

"Yes, he had a wife and two kids. They… they were all found dead Callen, bound hand and foot in their car. It was pulled from the San Francisco bay ten days after Joe Sullivan was killed. Autopsy reports indicate they died about the same day Sullivan did. Police assumed that Sullivan snapped and did it himself before he went on his crime spree."

"That's not what happened," Kensi says in a low voice. The others look to her and nod in agreement.

"If Quaide was holding Sullivan's family hostage," Callen continues, "he could have easily made Sullivan commit those crimes against his will."

"And then killed his family after Sullivan died, to cover his tracks." Sam finishes.

"But there's something I'm not getting," Kensi adds, "what is Quaide's connection to Deeks?"

"And even more importantly, who is Quaide holding to force Deeks' cooperation? I didn't think he had any family left" counters Callen.

"Well I can help with one of those questions right away," responds Eric over the phone. "John Quaide was convicted of kidnapping and assault and sentenced to 15 years, and one guess who was the assistant D.A. that put him away."

"Deeks." Sam answers.

Callen nods, "so Quaide has been getting payback on the men responsible for sending him to prison."

"We have to find him," Kensi declares suddenly, "we have to find Deeks before this goes any farther. If things continue much longer, Deeks could wind up dead the same way as Joe Sullivan."

Callen is shaking his head before Kensi even finishes, "We should find him, yes, but we cannot engage him, not yet."

Kensi opens her mouth, clearly about to argue the point, but Callen cuts her short. "Think about it Kensi, Quaide is holding someone hostage, that's the only way he could possibly force Deeks to comply with his demands. If we stop him now, Quaide will know, and whoever he's holding will probably die."

Kensi persists, "You don't know that Callen, we…"

"Quaide has to be keeping tabs on Deeks Kensi," Callen continues, "We already know he is in direct contact with him, probably via an earwig, or hidden mic, he might even have video surveillance on Deeks. He'd have to, really, to make sure Deeks doesn't try to contact anyone, but rather keeps playing his game."

"Callen's right" agrees Sam, "our course of action right now is to track down Quaide, and free his hostage, and hopefully do it before Deeks reaches Quaide's endgame."

Kensi looks down to the ground, a sorrowful expression on her face. "I don't like the odds of that," she says, "time is running out, and we aren't even sure where to start."

Callen turns his attention back to the phone in his hand, "Eric, have you had any luck in tracking Deeks down?"

Kensi looks up hopefully, but turns crestfallen when Eric replies "Sorry Callen, I've managed to identify his car, it's an older model black Cavalier. And I managed to track it from the convenience store for a while, but lost it when it went on the San Diego freeway. Kaleidoscope is still searching, and it'll turn up."

"Keep at it Eric," says Callen, "in the meantime, Quaide has to be using some sort of communication device to keep in constant contact with Deeks, I want you to work on trying to find that frequency. Yes, I know it's a long shot," Callen continues, bowling over Eric's sudden objections, "but just do it, right now it's the only lead we've got. Also, get Nell to look into Deeks past, there's got to be somebody there, someone that Quaide is able to use as leverage to pull Deeks strings."

"Nell here, I'm on it Callen!" declares the Red-headed Analyst.

"Good, keep us posted."

Callen shuts off his phone and shoves it back in his pocket. He looks then to Sam who asks, "So what now G.?"

Callen sighs, "there's not much to do, except to head back to OPS and wait for a break."

The three agents look to each other, nod, and then head back to their cars.

As Kensi climbs into her SRX, she can't stop thinking that just sitting and waiting at OPS is the last thing she wants to do. Her partner is out there, alone and in trouble, and he needs her help.

Pulling out into traffic following Sam and Callen, she pulls out her phone and speed dials OPS, putting the phone on speaker.

"Eric here, what do you need Kensi?"

Kensi takes a slow breath and replies, "I need you to send me Deeks' last known location Eric. When he resurfaces, I'd like to be as close to his position as possible."

Eric complies, relaying the coordinates, and Kensi turns off onto a side street, leaving her teammates to carry onwards to the Mission.


	7. Chapter 6

"So tell me Martin, how did it feel to point a gun at an innocent person, and threaten them with bodily harm? Did the look of fear in their eyes give you a rush? I know it does me. How does it feel to finally be on the other side of the fence?" Quaide's voice is cold and sadistic, clearly he is enjoying every torturous experience he is putting Deeks through.

But Deeks doesn't care. He stopped caring the moment he pointed his gun at that little boy at the convenience store. The look on that little boys face is something he will never forget, nor forgive himself for causing. He doesn't know what Quaide still has in store for him, what sick mental or physical tortures he still plans to implement, but he doesn't think about it any more. All that matters is getting through the ordeal to the end, and saving his sister.

Following Quaide's instructions, Deeks takes an exit off the San Diego freeway, entering into Gardena. Continuing the directions, several minutes later he pulls over in front of a residential home in a seedy neighborhood.

"So what am I doing here?" He asks.

"I'll admit Martin, this particular task wasn't one I had originally planned on, but it should prove interesting to watch just the same. You see, in order to carry out all my plans, I needed to procure some outside help. You know, to do some of the legwork and heavy lifting. Initially I thought about just hiring any old thug to carry out what I needed. But then it occurred to me, why not find someone who hates you almost as much as I do? Certainly a man such as yourself must have a whole list of people who would like to cause you harm. Well I found such a man…and he was more than willing to do whatever it was I asked of him. And all it cost me in return was for me to give him ten minutes alone with you. Quite a bargain if I do say so myself."

Deeks doesn't reply. Inwardly, he's mildly curious at which of the members of his rogue's gallery Quaide recruited for his plan. But he supposes it doesn't really matter. Then he wonders if this might in fact be his last task – to get beaten to death by some criminal he busted in his past. He can think of better ways to go, that's for sure, but at least it would finally be over.

As if reading his mind, Quaide continues, "don't worry Martin. My friend has been given strict instructions not to cause you too much serious harm. You still have more you will need to do for me after this. That means full mobility of your limbs, and a clear head. So, what are you waiting for? Go on in."

Deeks opens the door and exits the car. Turning towards the house, he walks up the walkway, and knocks on the door. A short time later, a rather sizable, burly man answers the door, and Deeks recognizes him instantly.

"Victor Rush." He says to the man standing before him. "Of all the felons I've put away, the last thing I expected was a petty thief like you to get mixed up in something like this."

"Heya Deeks, I've been waiting for you. Why don't you come on in?" Rush gives Deeks a sinister grin full of promise of what is to come. Shifting his eyes from the man's malevolent stare to the interior of the house, Deeks shoulders past the man and enters.

"Before you get started Martin, two things:" Quaide's voice in his ear instructs, "first, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you are not to defend yourself in any way. And i don't need to remind you what will happen if you do. Second, be a pal will you, and hang your jacket off of a chair with the camera facing you. I do so want to watch what is coming next."

When Deeks enters the living room, immediately he notices a section of floor with clear plastic covering the rug. The sight of it, more than anything, sends a dire portent of what's to come, and causes a shiver to race down his spine. Deeks has been no stranger to beatings for the entirety of his life and he no longer fears them, but something about that plastic, meant to prevent _HIS_ blood from staining the carpet, affects him in some inexplicable way. Eyes eventually moving from the plastic to the rest of the room, Deeks sees an armchair sitting in the corner that seems as good a spot as any for Quaide to watch his sick show.

As he moves to the chair and strategically places his jacket upon it, Rush watches him intently, malicious grin still plastered on his face. When Deeks eventually turns to him, his grin widens even more, and he says, "Get on the plastic."

* * *

Deeks has lost track of how long Victor Rush has been raining blows down upon him, but it feels like a lot longer than ten minutes, even though it probably wasn't. True to Quaide's word, Rush has left Deek's limbs and skull mostly untouched, but that hasn't stopped the man from tenderizing every other part of his body, and clearly enjoying every minute of it. Right now, Deeks lays on the ground, no longer able to stand, and he tries his best to absorb the series of blows to his ribs, without seeming to be trying to defend himself. He felt one or two of them crack already. Well, maybe three. And he knows that were he to live another day, his body would be covered in dark purple bruises by tomorrow.

He feels his right eye starting to swell and close, his bottom lip split open, and the harsh abrasion on his left cheek burns as it's rawness rubs against the plastic. The blows continue and he just starts to feel himself slip into unconsciousness when they suddenly stop, and his mind is drawn through the haze of pain to the strident ringing of an alarm.

"Time's up," Quaide says in his ear, at virtually the same time as Victor Rush.

"Time's up," says big man. "Christmas definitely came early this year, that was a real treat."

Rush walks over to the coffee table and switches off the alarm indicating his ten minutes are up. He then walks slowly into the next room, and the sound of a refrigerator opening and closing can clearly be heard. Moments later, Rush re-appears, taking long pulls of beer from the bottle in his bloody hand.

In moments, he drains the entire bottle and lets out a loud belch. He then looks over at Deeks, still trying to focus and rise to his feet, and says, "I gotta say, I would'a paid any amount a' money ta do that. You busted me three times Deeks. You were due for some payback. Now, we're done. Get out."

Deeks says nothing, his gaze following the man until he disappears down the hall, vanishing into his bedroom. The plastic on which he lay on is covered in spattered blood, mostly from wounds to his face. As he begins to rise, the slick wetness of the blood on the plastic causes him to slip and fall -sending waves of pain through his damaged ribcage. The sudden spike hits him so hard he feels vertigo, and black spots begin to cloud his vision. But after several moments rest his vision and head begins to clear, and he tries to rise again, this time a bit more carefully. It takes him some time to finally get to his feet, his entire torso and face seemingly screaming in agony. _Fuck me, this hurts..._

Stumbling over to the chair with his jacket, Deeks gingerly picks it up and puts it back on. He then turns and slowly makes his way to the exit.

Passing by a hall mirror, Deeks is shocked at the man... the stranger reflected before him. The man in the mirror looks so beaten, both physically and in his eyes, that he is really hard to look upon. And the sizable stains of blood absorbed into his shirt and pants from the plastic just serve to make him even more horrifying to see. The man has certain recognizable features, that's for sure, but beyond that, Deeks sees nothing of the man he knows he is. _Or was..._ Unable to look any more at the haunted reflection before him, he turns once more towards the exit and slowly makes his way outside.

"I've got to say Martin, that was rather more enjoyable than I thought it was going to be. I've never been one to be enticed by physical brutality. No, it was always much more appealing to me to break a human spirit. But in this case, I am pleasantly surprised that I did enjoy it after all. I'd ask you how it feels, but you have thusfar been less than forthcoming in talking to me about it. But it doesn't matter. I saw your reflection in the mirror, as did you. I could see the suffering. It was quite... wonderful... to behold. So i guess we can just move on. Now, are you ready for your final task?"

Deeks makes his way to the car, and slowly climbs into the drivers seat, wincing as he moves his ribs in a manner that antagonizes the damage. Absently, he is reminded for a moment of the time recently that Kensi cracked a rib after she had been shot in her vest. If this was the pain she felt, then he thinks she bore it well, based upon outward appearance. Ah Kensi, what Deeks wouldn't give to see her one last time. Not for her to see him though, not like this. But if he could just see her beautiful face and gorgeous smile just one more time…

Drawn back to the monologue Quaide is speaking in his ear, he catches just the last bit of it…about his final task. "It's about time," he says, "let's finish this once and for all."

Starting the car, Deeks spits a gobbet of blood and spit onto the passenger seat floor, he then shifts the car into gear, and pulls away from the curb.

* * *

Kensi speeds down the San Diego freeway, unsure of where she's going, but incapable of just pulling over and waiting. She's overwhelmed by the need to just be doing something, so she drives, hoping instinctively that somehow her random driving is bringing her closer to Deeks.

Thoughts and worry plague her as she drives, and she tries desperately to not think about what that madman Quaide might be putting Deeks through right that moment.

A horn blares from a passing car and Kensi reacts, realizing suddenly she was gradually straying into the next lane over. Looking over, she sees the driver give her the finger as he passes.

"Dammit," she mutters, "pay attention to the road Kensi." But she knows that is easier said than done.

She is just about to consider taking an exit off the freeway when her phone buzzes from it's spot sitting on the passenger seat. Picking up the phone, she sees OPS calling, and quickly she turns on the speaker.

"Have you found him Eric?" Kensi is anxious now, ever aware as she is that time is running out. If Quaide doesn't finish off Deeks soon, then it's entirely possible the LAPD might. The team considered informing the LAPD of Deeks' situation, but it was decided that the risk was too great that John Quaide might be monitoring police radio frequencies.

"Kaleidoscope picked up his car just a minute ago Kensi. You'll have to take the off ramp into Gardena, your second exit up ahead, to catch him. I'm feeding his coordinates into your GPS now."

Kensi feels a surge of relief, finally she has a location on Deeks and she's no longer just driving blind. If he were here right now, she would kiss Eric for this bit of good news.

"Thanks Eric," Kensi responds, the relief she's feeling evident in her voice. "Is Callen and Sam back at OPS yet?"

Eric is quick to reply, "Yeah, they arrived a short time ago, do you want to talk to them?"

"No need, just tell them I'm going to track down Deeks, but I won't interfere with him unless lives are at stake. I'm going to need to know as soon as you guys find Quaide and free whoever he is holding as leverage over Deeks."

"Alright Kensi, I'll pass along the message. Eric out."

In truth, Kensi has no intention of allowing Deeks to come to harm, no matter whose life may be at stake. But she didn't think the rest of the team needed to hear that. All she can do is pray that they can get to Quaide in time, before she has to make that choice.

Approaching the exit to Gardena, Kensi switches lanes and exits the San Diego freeway. Looking at the screen of her GPS, she sees the blip indicating Deeks' car, a mere half a dozen blocks ahead.

Stepping on the gas, she races to catch up with her partner.

* * *

**A/N-** _Stay tuned for the next chapter, when Kensi and Deeks FINALLY meet up. Just in time for the pulse pounding climax. Oh it's a good chapter, trust me on this._


	8. Chapter 7

Callen and Sam walk into OPS and approach the center table.

"Please tell me you have something Eric," the senior agent pleads, " time is running out, Sullivan didn't last a day after Quaide got his hands on him."

"Not yet Callen, but we're getting close," Eric replies. "Nell, found out something that just might help us out."

Callen looks over at the red-headed analyst, sitting in her usual chair, right beside Eric. "Nell? What have you got?"

Nell taps on her keyboard, and a series of documents pop up on the big screen. Callen and Sam approach, surveying everything that appears.

"What are we looking at here Nell?" Sam asks.

Nell is already rising, tablet in hand.

"You asked me to delve into Deeks' past, and I think I discovered who it is Quaide might be holding. In fact, I'm sure of it."

Callen looks from the screen to the analyst. "So who is it?" he asks.

"Her name is Rebecca Atwood, formerly one Melody Jane Brandel. She's Deeks' sister."

Callen and Sam look at each other. "Did you know he had a sister?" Sam asks his partner.

"No," Callen answers, "I knew what you knew. What we all did. That his mother killed herself shortly after his father was sent to prison, and that his father later died in a car accident two years after he was paroled. I assumed that he didn't have any family left. He certainly never talked about any."

Callen looks back at Nell, who is silently following the conversation. "Why Atwood?" He asks suddenly. "Why isn't her last name still Brandel, or Deeks?"

Nell returns her gaze to the screen and the documents and records showing thereon. "Atwood is the name of her adopted family. It took a fair bit of digging to find her as her adoption records were sealed, " Nell continues, "she was two years old at the time of Mary Brandel –Deeks' mother's death, and she was adopted by the Atwood family 3 months later. Deeks himself spent the next several years in a series of foster homes, and there's no record that they actually saw each other ever again."

"It seems likely that Deeks would have kept tabs on his sister at the very least. Even if he was no longer a part of her life." Sam adds.

Callen looks from Nell to Eric and back again. "So are we sure she's the one that Quaide has?"

Eric swivels around in his chair. "I just ran a search on Rebecca Atwood and her parents filed a missing person's report on her a little over a day ago. Seems she disappeared over two days ago when she failed to show up for her classes at USC. So it seems likely that Quaide has her."

Callen looks back to the screen then as a photograph of a young woman pops up. Staring at the woman, Callen instantly recognizes the same golden blond hair and blue-grey eyes as their teammate. There are other similar features as well, a vague similarity in nose shape, and a similar chin – much like Deeks', only much more feminine in aspect.

"We need to find her," he says, "Eric, tell me you have something to go on concerning her abduction. Do we know where she was taken from?"

"I'm just starting a search. Neighbors to the Atwoods reported a blue van on the street the morning of her disappearance, and I'm pouring through footage from traffic cams and ATM cameras in the area. Maybe we might get lucky." Eric turns back to his terminal and, after a few key strokes, a series of camera feeds appears on the big screen, with the footage moving forwards at an accelerated speed.

The team spends several minutes watching the accelerated footage, and Callen finds himself having to force his eyes to stay focused on the speeding images. Cars, trucks and vans all drive past at speed but none of them match the vehicle he searches for.

"Wait…" Sam blurts out beside him, "Eric, bottom left camera, rewind that."

Callen's eyes instantly move to the bottom left, footage he hadn't been looking at. He watches as the vehicles in the footage slow to a stop, then begin reversing their direction of movement. Several cars reappear on screen, moving backwards until Callen's eyes widen in recognition of what Sam saw.

"There!" Sam points. "A blue van, right there!"

Callen looks to Eric, "How far is that camera from the Atwood residence?"

Eric clicks a couple of keys then replies, "two blocks away."

Sam looks over to his partner, and shrugs "There's a lot of blue vans in L.A. G., could be it's not the right one."

Callen looks back to his partner. "But maybe it is." "Eric, follow that van and try to get a clear view of the driver."

As Callen watches, the footage with the blue van maximizes to take up the whole of the screen, and the video begins to shift as camera after camera appears onscreen, with the blue van readily identifiable in each one as it makes it's way down the street. Eventually, the van makes a right hand turn, and Eric freezes the image right near it's completion of the turn. The van is now frozen at a full frontal angle, and the driver, for the first time, can be clearly seen.

"There." Says Callen. "Run facial recognition on that driver."

Eric smiles and shakes his head slightly, way ahead of Callen once again. A few keystrokes later and he has zoomed in on the driver's face and a search is under way.

The team stares at the screen as faces cycle by at blinding speed until, moments later, a match is found.

Each of them stare at the mug shot of a man that is clearly the driver of the van.

"Victor Rush," says Sam, reading the name under the photo.

"What do you got on him Eric?" Callen asks.

"Plenty," replies the tech, "Mostly petty theft arrests. But get this Callen, he's been arrested by Deeks on three separate occasions."

Callen and Sam look to one another again. "There's no way that's a coincidence" the bigger man says.

"No. It's not." Callen concurs, and then to Eric, "Follow that van Eric. We need to know where it went. Victor Rush has got to be working with Quaide."

Callen and Sam spend the next fifteen minutes gearing up in the armory. Callen straps on his NCIS Kevlar vest, while Sam preps his SIG516 assault rifle, double checking the sight and grabbing some extra clips. They are just finishing up when Eric walks into the room. Both agents instantly turn to look at the new arrival.

"I followed the van," Eric begins, "and I lost it when it entered a warehouse district south of Venice beach."

Callen frowns, "so we're at a dead end then?"

Eric snorts. "Please, give me some credit. I was able to narrow down the van's location to a small grouping of seventeen different warehouses. After that, I tasked a surveillance satellite to get a current look at the area, and it's still nowhere to be seen."

Callen raises an eyebrow, "And?"

Eric smiles, "and… I did a search of communication transmissions within the target area. There were several, but only one transmission was registering as scrambled with what looks to be a military encryption. I would need several days, and more than a few cases of bubbly cola, in order to hack in and listen to what's being said, but given the circumstances, it's a sound bet that that's the one we're looking for. I pinpointed the warehouse the transmission is coming from and did an infrared search of the building. It's….it's the one we're looking for Callen, and I've uploaded the address to your phones."

Sam grins and pats the technician roughly on the back, causing him to lurch forward half a step. "Good job Eric! Once again you remind us why you are the master!"

Callen grins as well and the two agents hurry out of the room. Eric turns around to watch them leave then says to the suddenly empty room "You're welcome."

* * *

"Our time together is growing short Martin. I must say, I'm going to miss this…just a bit. If only I could keep you as my puppet indefinitely, oh… the things I could still do. But alas, the cops are bound to find you sooner or later, and although I wouldn't really mind watching you die by their hands -for of course you would make sure of that, for your sister's sake- I would much rather watch you take your own life. You'll want to take the next left."

Deeks flips on the signal and does as instructed. It's getting much more difficult to breathe now, and with every ragged gasp, Deeks feels vertigo, and darkness returns to manifest briefly on the edge of his vision. He's doesn't know how much longer he can stay conscious, but he fights with every ounce of his will to stay that way…for his sister, for Rebecca.

"We've arrived, find a parking spot." Quaide says in his ear.

Obliging, Deeks swerves into a vacant spot on the side of the road and looks around at his surroundings. The far side of the street is wall to wall businesses stretching out for blocks in either direction, but on his side of the street, he finds himself parked directly in front of an outdoor food court, with dozens of diners sitting at tables eating, and an elaborate fountain on display at the back. Briefly, it occurs to him that he's never been here before, but, he supposes that it's as good a place as any to die.

"I chose this place Martin because of its wonderful surveillance system, a system which I managed to hack into some time ago. I do so love a good show after all. Plus, there are plenty of witnesses about, which I think will just add to the flavour of the spectacle about to take place. Don't you agree? Now, i think you know what i wish you to do. Time to grab that gun again."

Deeks is still staring into the food court, watching all the people as they laugh and chat and eat, totally oblivious to what is about to go down in their midst. It's hard to imagine that he was once that carefree, so oblivious to pain and suffering on a level that he can barely manage. He's thought about it before, and often… dying that is. And he shakes his head in wonder at the fact that out of all the different scenarios he had imagined- most of them involving death in the line of duty- he never thought that he would be taking his own life. Funny how life works out.

"Time to get the show on the road," he says to no one in particular.

Reaching over, he pops open the glove compartment once again and pulls out the revolver. Then getting out of the car, he walks into the food court.

* * *

Kensi pulls over to the side of the road just in time to see Deeks stumbling unsteadily into the food court on the side of the street. Having received a call from Eric earlier considering the identity of Quaide's hostage- _Deeks has a sister?-_, as well as the fact that Callen and Sam are enroute to save her at this very moment, Kensi hopes, no… prays that they can get to her before Deeks does whatever he's come here to do. As she watches her partner, her eyes widen and her hand comes to her mouth as she takes in the state of him.

"Oh my god, Deeks…"she whispers.

She only sees him in profile, but his movements and the blood visible on the side of his face and all over his clothes are enough of an indicator of the pain he's in. Slowly, he shambles along, cradling his ribs and head down as if he just doesn't have the energy to look up anymore, and Kensi has a hard time recalling ever before seeing a man look so broken…so defeated, and it breaks her heart. _No! Not Deeks, he's stronger than that! What the fuck has Quaide done to him? _

More than anything she wishes she could just go to him, and take him in her arms and make the hurt go away.

A surge of rage over comes her then as she thinks about the man who did this to him. _Quaide._ If he were here before her right now, Kensi has no doubt that she would gladly put a bullet in each of his knees, just to hear him scream. And that would be just for starters.

In truth, she thinks she would probably kill the man for what he's done. Sure, she spared Clairmont, the man who had killed her father. But as horrendous an action as the murder of her father was, there are some things in the world that are worse still. And looking at Deeks, who is nothing less than the embodiment of physical and mental suffering at this very moment, she knows that this is worse, for his suffering is ongoing.

Taking a deep breath, Kensi bottles her rage, and gets out of the car, quietly following her partner into the food court.

Deeks has passed by several tables by the time she leaves the sidewalk and enters the food court behind him. People are starting to notice the injured man, with blood on his face and clothes, moving in their midst, and Kensi can hear signs of anxiety in several raised voices. Moments later, someone notices a gun in Deeks hand, hanging loosely at his side, and upon the declaration "He's got a gun!", panic starts to ensue as everyone scrambles to clear the area.

Kensi is shoved aside repeatedly, but she fights her way through, slowly continuing her way forward. Nevertheless, Deeks, with a clear path before him, manages to increase the distance from her to a good forty feet or more. Reaching behind into her waistband, she pulls out her Sig Sauer, unsure of Deeks' intentions with that gun. She doesn't believe he would hurt anybody, not in a million years…not Deeks. But then this isn't _Her _Deeks before her now, but rather a broken, bloody shadow of her partner's former self. And she's not sure of what steps he might take in order to save his sister's life. _Whatever he's planning on doing with that gun,_ she thinks, _it can't be good._

About midway through the eating area, Deeks finally comes to a halt. Raising his hand, he stares down at the gun in his hand.

Kensi works her way through another group of people fleeing the area and sees Deeks in the distance, staring at the gun in his hand. A cold chill runs down her spine as she is hit with the sudden belief that whatever he's planning is about to go down. And the way he seems to be ignoring the people getting away from him, a stomach churning realization hits her as to just what it is he is planning to do.

"Deeks!" she cries, over the raucous noise of the fleeing bystanders. Desperately she pushes her way through the last of the people, trying to close the distance to her partner. But he's still so far away.

* * *

Deeks stares at the gun in his hand, lost in thought. In the back of his mind, he hears the noises of the diners in the food court as they notice his arrival and seek to flee the scene. But he doesn't care, he has reached his final moments at long last, and as he arrives at this particular point in time, he has come to the sudden realization that he does not want to die. Every breath he takes is agony and he can barely stay on his feet. He has systematically destroyed his entire life and committed crimes that are anathema to the core of his being. He has betrayed trusts, and brought fear into the hearts of innocents. He takes all this into account, and _still_ he does not want to die. Deeks has been a survivor his entire life, tempered as he was in the forge that was the Brandel household, shaped and strengthened under the all too frequent hammering blows of Gordon Brandel -the man he stopped calling 'Father' a long time ago. Such a life could have easily shattered him, but instead it made him stronger, and suicide, though an admittedly tempting and comforting escape, goes against everything he is. But he knows he must do it. For her…for Rebecca, he has to die. Letting out a long, painful sigh, Deeks begins to raise the gun to his head.

"Deeks!"

The name… the voice, calls out to him from the general cacophony of the crowd. Like an arrow aimed straight to his heart, recognition pulls him from his reverie and the horrifying implications of that shout serve to stagger him, while simultaneously stopping the upwards movement of the gun to his head.

_Not her, _he prays, _please God not her…not now._

Slowly, with great care, he turns around to look in the direction of the shout.

And there she is…Kensi, _his Kensi_, moving around tables, making her way steadily towards him, gun raised, some thirty-five feet away. Seeing her here and now is single-handedly the most wonderful and horrendous of things that he can imagine. God, it's so good to see her again, to see that beautiful face, and those captivating mismatched eyes, even if they are plagued with an expression of pain and worry…no doubt for him. He swears just looking upon her eases his pain and lessens his hurt, and he wants so much to just drop his gun and go to her.

He feels his grip on his gun start to slacken when a voice breaks through his thoughts. "Martin, complete your task or I will kill Rebecca. Do you hear me? Do it now or she's dead."

Quaide's voice appears calm in his ear, but Deeks detects a trace of tension and maybe a slight urgency in it as well. Upon hearing his sister's name, his foggy mind clears and is instantly brought back to the present.

"Kensi, stay where you are." In his fatigue and pain, Deeks speaks as loud as he can, but he sees his words reach her as she stops moving, still some twenty-five feet away.

* * *

Kensi comes to a sudden halt, but even she is not sure if her stopping is due to Deeks' words, or if it's due to the shocking sight of him. She thought Deeks looked rough when she saw him in profile, but looking at her partner straight on, while he stares back at her with his one good eye meeting her own, she realizes that she hadn't even come close to understanding his pain, and that realization levels her. He slouches as if holding himself upright is a struggle he is barely winning. And the look in his face is so desperate, so forlorn, that it shatters her already broken heart into a million tiny pieces. Over the months and years of working together, they had come to know each other so well, to become so in tune with each other, that while seeing this pain and dejection in his face, she cannot help but feel it too. And overwhelmed by it all, Kensi cries.

She cannot remember the last time she cried. Or more specifically, the last time she cried over someone else's torment. Usually she is so much stronger than that. But the sight of her partner has disarmed her of her defenses so readily that she stands before him as a living mirror of his own pain.

Absently Kensi brings her free hand up to gently touch her ribcage, in an all too brief, pale imitation of Deeks' own posture, and she swears, just for a moment, that she feels the ghost of a sharp pain there. _Such pain._ She then brings the same hand to her face and, wiping the tears from her cheeks, she opens her mouth to speak, the pleading in her voice, urgent and apparent. "Deeks, drop the gun. Please…just drop the gun."

Deeks doesn't comply. He just shakes his head slowly and stares at her for a long moment, face full of sorrow. His eventual reply is laced with so much regret that it makes his voice crack, "you should never have come here Princess. I'm truly sorry you have to see this."

And before she can process his words, he once again raises his gun to his head.

* * *

A shot fires, it's sharp crack echoing out into the late afternoon sky. And in reaction, terrified screams and shouts from bystanders follows the sound of the gunshot into the air. But those screams go unheard, while Kensi stares on in horror as she watches Deeks crumple to the ground, and it's several seconds before it registers in her mind that she just pulled the trigger and shot her own partner.

The bullet enters Deeks' right shoulder and punches clean through, the pain and shock of the wound causing the revolver to fly from his hand and go skittering across the ground, coming to a stop several feet behind him. At the same time, Deeks' legs buckle and he falls to his knees, left hand clutching his latest wound and face screwed up in a grimace of pain.

"Kensi! What have you done?" he bellows, frustration and anger dulling the fatigue. "You don't understand, I have to do this, my sister's life is at stake!"

Kensi doesn't reply but instead begins to once again close the distance to her partner. But Deeks is not to be deterred, and almost immediately he pulls himself up, spies his gun and starts to stumble towards it.

"Deeks! Stop!" _Please... _Kensi screams. "I won't let you do this!" But he either does not, or will not hear her. He closes to within eight feet of the gun and Kensi realizes with dismay that she cannot get to him in time. Drawing her gun upwards again, she takes oh so careful aim, and fires a second time.

The bullet this time punches into the meat of Deeks' left leg, right in the buttock. Deeks give a cry of pain and hits the ground once again, the gun only a few feet from his outstretched hand.

Deeks is in so much pain now that all thought and reason momentarily leaves his mind once more, replaced instead by overwhelming agony coursing all through his body. So many parts of his body are screaming in pain all at once, each crying out, wanting to be heard, wanting attention. But it's all too much. Briefly, he thinks he can hear gun shots and screaming off in the distance, but it's forgotten quickly, his mind once again succumbing to the mental fog within which his mind was trapped before. Eventually though, his mind clears somewhat and he is once more cognizant of his surroundings.

Instantly recalling his purpose, he looks towards the dropped gun. _Surely it can't be that far away. Perhaps it's not to late._ But looking over, his face falls as he sees that it's gone, and Kensi is kneeling beside him, a look of deep concern etched on her face.

As Deeks slowly turns over, his partner puts a gentle but firm hand on his chest and tells him in a voice full of compassion and regret "Lie still Deeks, you're pretty badly injured."

Deeks meets his partner's gaze as the enormity of the consequences of her actions finally strike home. For a long moment, the partners stare at each other wordlessly, tired and shocked into silence.

Finally averting his eyes, Deeks turns his attention to the comm device implanted in his ear. "Quaide… Quaide can you hear me? Please...don't kill her. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all, just please let her live, i'm begging you."

Deeks falls silent again for several moments, waiting for the man to respond, all the while dreading that his response will be to let Deeks hear his sister die.

Finally, after a seeming eternity of pain and waiting, sound flickers on the device and a voice comes on the line.

"Deeks?"

Deeks' one good eye widens as recognition of the voice hits him like a blow to the head.

"Callen?" he asks hesitantly, too afraid that his pain fogged mind is playing tricks on him.

"Ya, it's me Deeks. We stopped Quaide, and Rebecca is safe."

"She's safe." Upon hearing those words, a flood of pent up emotions burst forth as from a dam, and overwhelm him in seconds. Raising his hands to cover his face, he doesn't try to stop the torrent of tears that suddenly cascade down his face, as horrible wretched sobs burst from his chest, sending stabs of pain through his damaged ribs. He lets it all out, all the rage, anxiety, fear, pain and despair that he kept bottled up since the moment he looked upon that photograph of his sister, seemingly so long ago now. And he doesn't try to hide it, or try to mask it with humor and a smile. He's just too tired, and too relieved.

After several moments, he feels his partner's light touch as her hand comes to rest on his own, still covering his face. Seconds later, he feels her press her soft lips to his forehead, and then rest her cheek there, while moving her hand to bring it up to slowly stroke his hair. "It's OK Deeks, let it all out," she whispers, "it's over now."

She strokes his hair tenderly like that, her own tears turning his hair damp underneath her cheek, until eventually, the tears begin to abate and the wracking sobs come to an end. And with the release of the last of the pent up emotions, Deeks feels himself slide into blissful unconsciousness. The last thing he hears, is the sound of sirens in the distance.

* * *

**A/N- **_Well that's it fearless readers. I hope you enjoyed the story._

_What's that? I can't leave it there you say?  
_

_I suppose you're right. Stay tuned, there will be one last chapter coming your way.  
_


	9. Epilogue

When Deeks finally regains consciousness, the first thing he immediately becomes aware of is the pain. It is dulled now somewhat, but still it throbs, sending waves of agony throughout his body. His shoulder hurts, his face hurts, his ribs hurt...and his ass REALLY hurts. If he were to really think about it, he would probably come to realize that the pain was always there, even while unconscious. But he chooses not to think about it, because the second thing he has become aware of has come to completely occupy all his attention, forcing the awareness of pain to the back of his mind.

He feels the soft, warm skin of a hand pressed against his own, fingers intertwined. And more, he feels soft silky hair pressed against the back of that hand.

Other details of his surroundings he might have noticed –the quiet hum and beeping coming from monitors beside his bed, a woman's voice on speaker, coming from the hallway, even the feel of an IV tube attached and taped to his right arm. But they all go unregistered in his mind - buried under the sensory experience of this one touch. Slowly he opens his eyes – well, the one eye that will open properly anyway – and he looks over to see his partner, sitting in a chair beside his hospital bed, holding his hand, with her forehead resting on her other arm. The deep even breaths she makes tells Deeks that she's fast asleep, and as much as he wants to look in her eyes, and to reach out and touch her –with his other hand, of course- he fears waking her up, afraid she might pull her hand away from his upon realization of the intimacy.

So he lays there quietly and he watches her sleep, content just to have her by his side.

Many minutes go by, and Deeks takes the time to reflect on all that has happened through the course of the day. _Was it today? How much time has passed exactly? _Much of it, especially towards the end, feels more like he was in a fugue state than anything. The overwhelming pain just caused reality to seem less…substantial. That is until _she_ showed up… _My Girl_. The moment he heard Kensi's voice, and saw her, things became so much more focused… more real. He remembers almost dropping his gun and stumbling into her arms. Lord knows he wanted to. And then she shot him. Shot him! Twice! He still can't believe it. Oh he knows perfectly well she did it to save his life, and in the end he's grateful, because he was in a bad place and he remembers with crystal clarity his need, his desperation, to take his own life. The thought gives him chills. But, had their positions been reversed, he's not sure he could have done the same. Hurting Kensi is the last thing he would ever want to do. But it all worked out. Somehow, someway, his team came through and they did what Deeks himself could not, they saved his sister...and himself. He knows he will never be able to repay them for that, but he's sure as hell going to try.

Looking back to Kensi, he once again watches her sleep. She looks so beautiful, so peaceful, that Deeks begins to believe that all he had suffered today might just have been worth it, if only to experience this tender moment at the end of the day. Well… almost.

Some time later, Kensi begins to stir in her sleep, showing clear agitation over whatever dream she seems to be having. Unmistakably, Deeks hears her say his name and he can guess what's she's dreaming about. He feels a pang of regret as he realizes that his magical moment has about come to an end. But he doesn't resist when Kensi wakes suddenly from her dream, lifts her head to look at him and instinctively pulls her hand away from his. He knows his partner well, and true physical intimacy is not something that has ever been easy for her. At least not as long as he's known her.

"Bad dream?" he asks, but she does not answer.

Instead she rises to her feet and Deeks meets her gaze, offering her a weak smile –pained by the cut and swelling in his lower lip. But his smile falters when he sees a troubling expression on Kensi's face, and his concern grows when he sees her start to back away, heading for the door.

"Kensi…" he begins, but she is quick to cut him off.

"I'm sorry Deeks, I know you must not want me here…but I just had to make sure you were OK." Tears fall down her face now, and she bites her lower lip. It is a look of such unexpected sorrow that for several moments Deeks is at a loss for words. It is only when she turns and gets close to the door that Deeks finally finds his voice.

"Kensi… wait," he calls to her, "Please, come back."

Upon hearing his voice, Kensi stops in her tracks, hand reaching out for the door handle but not quite touching it. She hesitates for several moments, uncertainty evident, before she finally turns and comes back to the beside.

As she approaches, Deeks reaches out for her with his hand that she had held so lovingly a mere minute before. She stares at it, eyes wide, like it is some strange animal she has never seen before, but then her gaze meets Deeks' own and something she sees there motivates her to reach out and take it. He then half pulls and half guides her the rest of the way to the chair she just recently vacated, and she slowly sits back down. But he doesn't let go of her hand… not this time.

He watches her for a time as she sits there, tears still glistening on her cheeks, as her gaze wanders around the room, seemingly looking everywhere but at him.

"Kens…" he says, "I don't understand, what's wrong?"

She looks at him then, shaking her head, incredulity shining in her eyes. "Deeks," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "how can you even stand to be in the same room with me?"

He stares at her, uncomprehending, forcing her to continue, louder now. "God Deeks, I shot you! Twice! And I didn't even think about it! The injuries you suffered from your beating were severe, but I'm the reason you've been hospitalized!"

Deeks stares at her for a time, shock registering on his face. But she doesn't see it, having looked away again during the course of her painful confession.

"Kens…" he eventually responds, soothingly, "Kensi… look at me."

Reluctantly she meets his gaze once more, and when their eyes meet he speaks to her in the most heartfelt and genuine tone he can manage, because he needs her to know, to understand, and most of all, to believe him if they are to continue as they had, or –god willing- someday as something more. "Kensi, you didn't shoot me… you saved my life. Do you hear me? You saved my life, and we could be partners for another twenty years and I will never forget, and never stop being grateful."

The tears fall anew down Kensi's face, but by her expression Deeks see that she understands. She did what was necessary to save his life, and he doesn't blame her for it. Not one bit. He smiles at her then… his signature smile, and he gives her hand, still in his, a gentle squeeze.

She returns his smile tentatively, and, feeling the situation calling for it, Deeks decides to lighten the mood.

"I can't believe you shot me in the butt though. I guess that makes us a matching pair. But I suppose I should be thankful you didn't shoot me in the groin instead."

His grin widens and Kensi lets out a short bark of relieved laughter. Instinctively, her free hand clenches and Deeks expects an incoming punch, but she catches herself, giving him nothing more than a gentle tap on the shoulder instead.

"Hey partner, I already shot you twice, keep up the wisecracks and I may do it again." She cracks back, humor evident in her voice.

"Oh, snap." Says Deeks.

"Besides," she continues, "I never said I was shot in the butt."

"But you never said you weren't either," he counters, mischievous half smile forming on his face.

Kensi shakes her head, and rolls her eyes, and Deeks smiles wider at the banter that they do oh so well – this give and take that is so _them_. He also smiles because, against all possible expectations, Kensi still holds his hand, fingers entwined in his as affectionately as when she had slept… and he loves it.

The two partners spend the next several minutes engaging in quiet conversation – they talk about how Deeks is feeling, about how the doctors said he was going to make a full recovery, and how the team managed to not only discover what was going down, but also track down and save his sister. Deeks sits there stunned as he hears the retelling. And when he reaches the realizations that had Quaide chosen not to tell Deeks his name, or had he not uttered Quaide's name out loud in the convenience store, he would in all likelihood be dead right now, and his sister as well if the Sullivan family was any indication, he shudders at just how close he had come, how close they all had come, to this ending badly. Deeks then smiles when Kensi tells him how Callen and Sam went off to track down Victor Rush, after they saw Rebecca safely to the hospital.

After a time, Deeks' face becomes solemn, and he stares off towards the door to his room.

Kensi picks up instantly on his change of mood and becomes concerned. "Hey, what's up? Is the pain acting up again?"

"Is she here?" Deeks doesn't take his eyes from the door.

"You mean your sister, Rebecca… yes, she's here. She's not badly injured, they're just keeping her overnight for observation."

Deeks nods but says nothing.

Kensi stares at him for a time, then adjusts her position in her chair. Bringing her free hand up, she places it on top of Deeks' hand that still holds her own. "Deeks…" she begins, "I've talked to her and she has no idea of who you are. Can I ask… why did you never tell her that you were her brother?"

Deeks is quiet for a long time, but Kensi sits there patiently, content to let him answer, if he chooses to do so, in his own time.

Eventually, Deeks opens his mouth to speak. "You know, after I shot my father, when I was eleven, our mother totally withdrew into herself, and started drinking even more than my father had done. She was never violent with us, but… there's other ways to hurt your kids."

Kensi squeezes his hand. "Neglect."

Deeks nods, "Yes. Neglect. During the months that followed it fell to me to take care of Melody…Rebecca. I tried my best, but she was two and I was only eleven, and I didn't really know what I was doing. She would cry so often, and I would hold her in my lap and sing her a song, trying to calm her down, but it rarely worked. When my mother finally killed herself, three days after my father was sent to prison, the social workers came and took Melody away. I remember feeling so sad that they were taking her away from me. But… at the same time, I was happy, because I knew no matter where she ended up, she had to be better off."

Deeks pauses, lost in reflection for a short time before he continues.

"When she was adopted by the Atwood family, I was so happy for her. She had a real family now… a normal one, a loving one. And I just couldn't do it Kensi, I couldn't tell her about her past, about the Brandel family. She didn't deserve to be exposed to that."

Kensi brings her free hand up to brush the hair from Deeks' forehead, and the action draws his good eye back to her. "Deeks…" she says, "I understand your wanting to shelter her from that past… to protect her from the tragedy you've both suffered. But she's your family, and you are hers. Don't you think she deserves to know she has a brother out there? I know if it were me, I would want to know."

Deeks considers her words. "Maybe you're right," he says, "but it's irrelevant now. How could she ever forgive me for what I just put her through. She was kidnapped because of me Kens. She almost died… and it's my fault."

"Deeks… don't take this the wrong way, but you can be such an idiot sometimes."

Deeks raises his eyebrow, curious. "Do tell."

"You see a young woman who was put in harms way because of someone seeking vengeance on you. But I see a young woman who has a brother who loves her so much, that he was willing to destroy his own life just to keep her safe. Granted, I don't know Rebecca very well, but I guarantee you that she will see things my way…not yours."

Deeks considers her words, but when he looks at her again, Kensi can see apprehension in his face as he asks "But what if you're wrong?"

She smiles at him, returning to him in her gaze as much reassurance as he had given her such a short time ago. "I'm not. Talk to her Deeks."

Deeks looks back towards the door, pondering. "If I agree to talk to her, will you stay with me?" He asks, and Kensi detects a subtle note of anxiety and pleading in his voice.

Inwardly, she's taken aback by how much he appears to need her, to rely on her for support… and it makes her feel good.

"You really should talk to her alone," she replies, "but I will stay if you want me to."

Deeks nods, unconsciously giving her that hurt puppy dog look that always affects her so strongly she has to fight to appear immune to it. "Let's do it then" he says.

Kensi nods in return, gives his hand one last squeeze, then exits the hospital room in search of Rebecca. And Kensi can't be blamed if she moves just a little faster than she normally would, afraid as she is that Deeks might change his mind.

Several minutes later, Kensi returns, re-entering the room with Rebecca following close behind. Rebecca comes to stand at the foot of Deeks' bed, while Kensi returns to his side, her hand immediately seeking out his once more.

Deeks feels his stomach doing flip-flops, not a good accompaniment to the pain still emanating throughout his body. But Kensi's reassuring touch serves to calm his nerves in a way he can't quite explain, but is immensely thankful for.

Hesitantly, Deeks looks up to meet his sisters eyes, immediately aware that, although this is far from the first time he has seen her, it's the first time she has seen him… at least since she was two. Oddly, he finds himself self-conscious of how he looks, and he kind of wishes he didn't look as bad as he knows he does. The younger woman looks at him, with all too similar features, and wearing hospital garb that matches his own.

"Mr. Deeks?" Rebecca says timidly, "Agent Blye tells me I have you to thank for saving my life, but she wouldn't say how?"

Deeks looks briefly at Kensi standing by his bed and his will is reinforced by her encouraging, smiling face.

Returning his gaze back to Rebecca, he attempts to give her a reassuring smile. "That's not exactly true." He replies. "You were saved by Callen and Sam, my teammates. I guess all that I did was keep you alive long enough for them to find you."

Confusion marks the features of his sister then, and Deeks can pretty much guess her follow up question. "I don't understand," she says, "why did those men take me? I don't understand any of this."

Deeks averts his eyes, and stares down at his feet, entirely unsure of how to proceed. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

Briefly he feels Kensi squeeze his hand again. "Just tell her Deeks," she says into the silence.

Deeks eyes flicker to her and then back to his sister, who is still looking at him perplexed.

_Shit. Well here goes nothing. It shouldn't be this hard._ "I'm your brother."

Deeks basically just blurts it out, and his lack of tact makes Kensi roll her eyes. But she recognizes that this is a difficult situation, so she just squeezes his hand again in silent reassurance.

"My…my brother?" Rebecca asks. She still has confusion on her features, but shock registers there as well.

"Your brother." Deeks confirms. "You know that you were adopted, yeah? Well you were born Melody Jane Brandel and were adopted when you were two. My name was Martin Brandel. I'm your big brother."

Rebecca just gapes at him now, wide-eyed and trying to process. "I have a big brother?"

Deeks gives one of his trademark half-smiles that Kensi finds so adorable –though she would never tell him that- and she sees him visibly relax a little, the hardest part now done.

Over the next several minutes, the floodgates open as Deeks goes into a detailed recounting of life in the Brandel household right until the end, and how he kept tabs on his sister afterwards, when she was adopted by the Atwoods. After that, he tells Rebecca, with guilt and hesitancy apparent in his voice, how she was discovered and then taken as leverage to punish him, and make him do things. When pressed for specifics on what he was made to do, Rebecca's features shift from amazement to horror as he works his way down the list of tasks he was made to complete. He tells her almost all of it, although he treads lightly on the specifics of his beating, and he doesn't see the point in mentioning that his partner shot him twice.

When he finally finishes, silence fills the room, and Deeks has a hard time remembering it ever feeling more uncomfortable or oppressing. Rebecca just stares at his legs, unseeing, obviously trying to absorb everything she was just told. Deeks, for his part, unable to stand the silence any longer, feels the need to say more.

"Listen," he begins, "I can't tell you enough how sorry I am that you were dragged into this. They wanted to punish me, and they used you to do it, and I will never forgive myself for that. I…I tried so hard to keep you out of my life, to keep you safe in your happy family. I never realized that the mere act of my checking up on you now and again would inadvertently put you in danger. I never should have done it."

Rebecca stares at him for a long moment, considering his words. Finally she says, "If I had never been taken by those men... if they had never sought revenge on you, do you think you would have ever actually approached me and told me who you were?"

Deeks ponders that for some time. He's lost count of the number of times he's wanted to do just that. Pretty much every time he has ever seen her... and hundreds of times in between. And lord knows he had fantasized about countless different scenarios in his head over the years, where he would reveal himself to her. Sometimes she would react with anger or hurt and would reject him, but mostly she would break into tears and run into his arms, and they would be a family again… those were his favorites. But he has to be honest with himself, something stopped him every time he was tempted to approach her, and he truly doesn't think that that would have ever changed. In the end, he doesn't tell her any of this, he just gives her a simple one word answer. "No."

Rebecca nods slowly, seeming to have expected that answer all along. Then she meets his eyes once more, and tears fall down her face as she says "then maybe it was worth it, don't you think? You and I both suffered, sure, but we survived. And in the end it bought us back together."

She smiles at him then, and Deeks finds his vision suddenly blurry. Wet tears slide down his face, mirroring those of his sister, and he looks from her to Kensi, disbelief on his face. Kensi smiles back at him and gives him a quick rub on the top of his head. "Told ya," she says, and then "I'll wait outside," as she turns and makes her way for the door.

Deeks says nothing, but just watches her go. Kensi gives Rebecca a reassuring shoulder squeeze as she passes on her way out into the hall.

Deeks looks back to his sister and reflexively reaches out to her with the same hand that Kensi so recently let go of. Rebecca sees the gesture and there is no hesitation in her steps as she makes her way around the bed to stand beside her brother. Ignoring the hand, she chooses instead to gently encircle his neck with her arms, and lay her head on his chest.

"My brother," she says. And Deeks returns the hug, closes his eyes, and smiles. And he can't help but think that this is better than all those fantasies put together.

* * *

Several hours later finds Deeks once again peacefully sleeping, with Kensi returned to his side. Deeks and Rebecca had sat together in his room for nearly two hours, and Kensi, although she longed to be back at his side –she had almost lost him today after all- gave them their privacy and used the time to get something to eat at the cafeteria, and to check in with Callen and Hetty. She was relieved to hear that Callen and Sam had successfully arrested Victor Rush, though a rather huge part of her wished that she had been there when they took him down. Quaide and Rush had managed to hurt Deeks so much today that it made her want to rage. And all she had managed to do was hurt him even more. Hell, she shot him! Twice! When she had first awoken earlier, from that all too real nightmare of shooting him, she had been so certain that at any moment he would recall what she had done, and then she would see the hurt and betrayal in his eyes, and he would send her away. She didn't think she could bear that, so she fled. Or tried to.

But beyond all hope and expectation he had understood immediately why she had acted as she had, and he forgave her. _No, that's not right. He saw nothing to forgive._ How on earth, she wonders, did she manage to be partnered with such a wonderful and understanding man? She wasn't sure how things were going to sort themselves out from here, Deeks had a lot to answer for after all, but one thing she was sure of was that there was no way she was letting him go without a fight.

As Kensi's mind returns from its wandering, she suddenly realizes that she had been gently combing her fingers repeatedly through her sleeping partners hair. Immediately, she yanks her hand away, chastising herself for her unthinking behaviour. If he had been awake for that…

"Don't stop now Princess, I was really starting to enjoy that." Deeks doesn't open his eyes, doesn't move at all really, save for the rather sizable grin that spreads across his face.

Kensi feels her face flush, mortified, "Deeks, how long have you been awake?"

Deeks opens his eyes and moves to sit up a little in bed. "I dunno," he says while giving a little stretch and a yawn, "ten minutes maybe. You were stroking my hair the entire time, I can tell you that."

Kensi smiles, embarrassed, "Yeah well, I was merely concerned for your well being."

"Sure Fern," Deeks grins back. "You love me, you might as well just admit it."

Kensi snorts at this, "Yeah right Deeks, cause I go around shooting all the guys I'm in love with."

Deeks doesn't miss a beat, "You shot me to save me, because you knew you couldn't bear to live without me."

Kensi rolls her eyes at this. "Hey, you had already quit NCIS by that point, remember? We were no longer partners by then, so I hardly think that's true."

At her words, Deeks playful expression vanishes, replaced with a sober, serious expression.

"Hey, what's up?" Kensi asks, noting the change.

Deeks is quiet for several long moments, "Listen Kens, about that. I need you to know that under normal circumstances I would have never quit like that. I mean, I don't know what my future holds, I like working at NCIS…with you, I couldn't imagine doing anything else, but were that to ever change, you would be the first person I'd tell."

Kensi reads from his expression that there is a lot Deeks has left unsaid, but she has a pretty good idea what it is. The look in his eyes tells her that he was sorry if his resigning had hurt her, and that he would never willingly excuse himself completely from her life. And she smiles then, as unspoken thanks for what he didn't say, and the fact that he didn't say it.

Impulsively, she takes his hand in hers again, but she doesn't care- they've held each others hand for most of the night, and she's grown comfortable doing it.

"That reminds me," she says finally, "I have something for you."

Deeks' eyebrow raises in curiosity as she reaches into her jacket with her free hand and pulls out an all too familiar object.

"Hey, my phone," he declares, taking it from her hand perhaps a little too quickly.

"Yeah," Kensi says, "once we realized you were in some trouble, someone was sent to pick it up from the trash can you dropped it into. We thought there might be a clue in it as to what was going on."

Deeks looks from his phone to look at Kensi out of the corner of his eye.  
So… you looked through it?" He questions, trying – in vain he thinks- to sound nonchalant.

Kensi just stares at the fingernails of her free hand, seemingly oblivious. "Yeah. But don't worry, we didn't pry too deep into your private stuff."

Deeks lets out a long breath and puts the phone on his nightstand. "No. No, of course, I didn't think you would."

Several seconds go by then before Kensi adds, "So that's a pretty interesting picture of me on your phone Deeks." And she says this so matter-of-factly, all while never raising her eyes from her examination of her nails, that Deeks is kind of stunned.

"Yeah, well…y'know." he stammers, clearly startled and at a loss for words.

The corners of Kensi's mouth turn up ever so slightly into a smile and she finally looks at him. Deeks for his part is looking everywhere but at her, his already nicely beaten face turning a particularly embarrassed shade of red.

Kensi smiles outright now, but says nothing, knowing that this is one of those things that they really shouldn't address. She peered into a private moment on Deeks phone seeing that –rather adorable if she does say so herself – completely disarmed and candid picture of herself attached to her contact ID. In truth, she knows full well how she would feel if he were to ever see the contact ID picture she has of him on _her_ phone –looking all foxy and mysterious at the beach one day after a case. And she would definitely not want him teasing her about it.

Deeks spends the next several moments still refusing to meet her gaze until she squeezes his hand once more, instantly drawing his gaze back to her. She gives him a smile which tells him she really doesn't mind, and Deeks smiles in gratitude.

It's at that moment that there is a knock at the door, followed by it swinging open, revealing a new arrival.

"Hetty," says Deeks, greeting his former operations manager.

Hetty takes in the two before her, her eyes settling momentarily on their joined hands which quickly separate. She then looks down quickly at the briefcase in her hands, and approaches Deeks bed side, opposite the side where Kensi sits.

"How are you feeling Mr. Deeks?"

"Oh you know, like I've been shot, and got my ass kicked. Or maybe like i got my ass shot, and the rest of me kicked...that would be more accurate i guess."

Hetty gives a small smile at his attempt to make light of his injuries. "But the doctors tell me you are going to make a complete recovery. That's good news. You have my apologies Mr. Deeks for not coming in to check on you sooner. But as you can imagine, I've had quite a day trying to explain to the Chief of Police why one of his best Detectives had suddenly decided to resign from the force and go on a city wide crime spree today. Needless to say, despite the circumstances for your behaviour, he is not very happy with you."

Deeks eyes the small woman, trying to read her expression. "I'm going to be arrested, aren't I?"

"Well, that still remains to be determined Mr. Deeks. They do have you under a number of charges, including arson, armed robbery and public endangerment. But I have quite a bit of pull with the D.A. and the Chief of Police, and I'm confident that I should be able to get all the charges dropped. The fire you set in your apartment caused minimal damage to the surrounding units, and no one was hurt. So that's a plus in your favour. Agents Callen and Hannah were also able to recover video and audio records of your interactions with John Quaide today as well. It seems he was looking to have some sort of keepsakes of what he forced you to do. Those, along with Miss Atwood's statement, strengthen your defense somewhat. I also took the liberty of speaking with Mr. Williams, the owner of Sandune convenience store. I explained to him the situation, and that, coupled with the fact that someone found his stolen money in the trash can outside his store and was kind enough to return it, decided him to not press charges on you."

Kensi looks over at Deeks in amusement. "You threw his money in the trash?"

Deeks scratches his stubbly chin. "Yeah. I forgot about that. I was so sickened by what I had just done, that I didn't want to hold onto that money any longer."

"Well, you're not out of the woods yet Mr. Deeks, but I'm confident that the charges will be dropped. Unfortunately though, the Police Chief has no interest in taking you back. If it were just his call, he could probably be persuaded. But I'm afraid you earned the ire of a lot of the LAPD today, and that, coupled with your previous less than stellar relations with them, well…"

"None of them want me around anymore." Deeks finishes. "Well, I can't say I blame them. When I quit this morning, I didn't even expect to live out the day, never mind get my job back. So I guess I should be content."

"Well, I don't know about that Mr. Deeks. LAPD may be finished with you, but NCIS is not."

Deeks face lights up, and Kensi smiles as well. "Really?" he asks.

Hetty smiles then too, the smiles on the other two apparently infectious. "Yes, really Mr. Deeks." She then opens the briefcase still in her hands, and pulls out a documents folder.

"I'm assuming," she continues, "that the NCIS application forms I filled out and gave to you last year burned up in your apartment. Am I correct?"

Kensi looks from Deeks to Hetty and back again. "Wait…what?" she asks, confusion in her expression.

Deeks looks over at his partner. "I was going to tell you about those forms eventually," he says, giving her that adorable puppy dog look again.

Kensi just smiles and shakes her head, "We'll talk about this later."

"Sorry Mr. Deeks, I'm afraid I just assumed you had told your partner about the application, given how close you two have become in recent weeks."

"Wait…what?" Now it's Deeks turn to question, and Kensi punches him in the arm.

"Ow! Like shooting me wasn't enough?"

Hetty smiles again and presents the folder to Deeks. He is in the middle of giving Kensi a faux evil glare so he doesn't immediately notice, but when he does, he takes it with a nod, opens it up and starts to peruse the documents. They look exactly like the original documents before they burned up in the inferno he set in his apartment, and he's halfway through the third page, marveling again at Hetty's uncanny accuracy concerning his personal information, when she pulls out a pen and holds it out to him.

"You don't waste any time," he says with a smirk.

"No time like the present," she replies straightfaced.

Deeks looks over to his partner, sees pretty much what he expected –her encouraging nod- then turns back to Hetty, grabs the pen and signs.

Hetty smiles, looking absolutely delighted as he hands the documents and pen back to her. "It's not official until all the charges against you are dropped Mr. Deeks. But, now that you've finally signed the application, I have the proper motivation to see that happen. Now you need your rest, so if you'll excuse me, I need to place another call to the Chief of Police."

With that, Hetty pats Deeks on the arm affectionately, smiles at Kensi, then leaves the room.

Kensi and Deeks both stare after her wordlessly for several seconds before Deeks says, "She _does_ know that it's like midnight now, right?"

Kensi chuckles, "The Chief of Police is NOT going to be happy."

The two partners share a laugh for a time, then in the ensuing silence, Kensi looks back to Deeks. "So…welcome back to NCIS _Agent_ Deeks. You were missed." She half expects a humorous jibe in return for this tender statement but Kensi says it anyway. But amazingly, Deeks just smiles at her and says "Thanks partner. 'Agent', that has a nice ring to it." Then his face suddenly lights up, "Hey! Do you think i'll get a nice car once i'm made an Agent? Maybe a Lexus, or even a Beamer?"

Kensi smiles inwardly but lets loose with a pseudo-groan. "Gawd Deeks, after the way you treated your last car? You'll be lucky if she gives you a bicycle."

"Haw haw," Deeks counters, then continues more seriously, "I guess now I just need to heal up and I can get back to work."

"Yeah, about that," says Kensi, staring down at her hands, "I've been giving it some thought, and I think...since I shot you and all, that you should come stay with me once you're released from the hospital. You know…just until you're healed…and until you find a new place to live."

She looks back to Deeks in time to see a most devilish grin form on his face. She gives him a reproachful look and rolls her eyes, "Couch only Deeks!"

But Deeks could swear he catches just a hint of a smile in her face as she looks away.

FIN

* * *

**A/N**- _Well, this is it... for real this time. I can't tell you how much i appreciate the encouraging reviews i received. I'm truly glad that some of you out there enjoyed the story. Makes me glad i didn't keep it to myself. :) You might have noticed its format kind of plays out like an episode of the show, that's because originally i thought it would make a great episode and i kind of threw it together like that. Deeks has to join NCIS officially eventually, and this was an idea i came up with to do that in an interesting manner. Though it has changed much since then. If i get any more plot ideas, i'll write more in the future. But really, i don't think i'm very imaginative. I do however, have fragments of one plot that's just started kicking around in my head. ;) So who knows.  
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